Just For A Laugh
by Presca
Summary: Bert makes a bet with Pauline, make the doc laugh in three months and he'll pay her 60 quid, little does she know the bet carries more weight than she would imagine as she starts to find more about Dr. Martin Ellingham and about their relationship.
1. Chapter 1

Just for a Laugh

By Presca

_Saturday, May 29, 2010_

It's early morning in the lovely, little community of Portwenn on the Northern side of Cornwall. Already there are signs of life as trolleys bob on the whitecaps just off shore, retrieving their nets brimming with fish. The sounds of the waves lapping at the white, sandy beach were only momentarily broken by the call of the gulls flying overhead. On each cliffside stood tiny houses that no doubt have been here for centuries, weathered only by the elements., sprinkled across the landscape in a picturesque setting. It was little wonder so many folks called this place home.

Except for perhaps one, who was still getting used to the notion. Dr. Martin Ellingham or as most folks liked to refer to him as – 'Doc Martin'. He'd been a GP in the town for four years running now and people were still having a hard time warming up to him – and vice versa. There was a general reluctance for first visits, somewhat dread for seconds and all out avoidance for thirds. Being the only doctor for miles made it unavoidable – for both parties involved.

Perhaps it was the lack of any bedside manner or civility when treating patients who walked through his door, most just wanting a chat and a good cup of tea as they had with the former GP, Dr. Sim. Those notions were quickly dashed within only a few minutes of meeting his incumbent.

Dr. Ellingham was tall and imposing, it was the first thing you noticed about him. His closely cropped light blonde hair now peppered with hints of gray gave his look more severity but yet shone brilliantly in the sun coming in through his window as he sat at his desk. His ginger brow was netted low over his eyes as he concentrated on writing up a prescription for his newest patient, Mr. McInnish, a local farmer with a touch of bursitis.

He took a moment to glance out of the window of his stoic, gray examination room to view the birds hovering near the ocean at the edge of the overlook. His soft, slate blue eyes turned gentle as a slight smile tried to tug at the corner of his full lips. He stopped himself, but ended up staring out the nearby window anyhow. Sniffing disdainfully, he rubbed his upturned nose, for he swore he could smell the heather on the breeze even though the window was closed.

Sometimes he forgot himself and had to admit Portwenn really was truly beautiful in it's own way, nestled between the nearby rolling hills. People had grown up here and in truth, so had he when he often vacationed at his Aunt Joan's.

He smiled finally to himself at the memory, briefly as he could feel a sense of calm settle over him.

That was until the door to his rooms suddenly opened and an elderly woman he'd never seen before walked in to stand before him.

"You Doc Martin?" She asked.

"Yes," he replied, trepidatiously.

"Right! She told me to cut to the chase, as you don't care for formalities – so…" she declared.

Without warning, she loosened the band on her light-blue polyester trousers and pulled them down around her ankles. Turning around, she moaned him with her rosy buttocks.

Dr. Ellingham's eyes grew large in shock.

"Pauline!" He screamed, jumping up from his seat to open the door to the reception lobby. "Madam, please kindly pull up your britches and take a seat! Pauline!"

The room was already full as it usually was at midday with the mixture of locals coming by for chat and the odd one or two to actually see the doctor.

She turned hearing her name with dread in her heart, the 32-year old wondered what she'd done this time. He was rarely happy, but ever since the school teacher Louisa Glasson had left him to work in Worcestershire at a prestigious middle school, he'd become more insufferable than ever.

Pauline had her curly, strawberry blonde hair up in a simple bun held in place with a colorful scrunchie. She had on a loose, shear brown blouse that was forever falling down one shoulder and not the other – something that irritated him, but he didn't mention it. She had on a simple, spaghetti strap beige shirt tucked into her rather elaborate, maroon colored gypsy skirt and ruffled underskirt. She tucked her feet under her chair and he observed maroon socks in her platform sandals which she twitched in nervous energy as she continued to listen to him.

The doctor had warned her about her decided lack of decorum which was growing progressively worse as time went on.

"Yes, doctor – what is it?" She whispered, looking off in the distance as if trying to ignore him.

He was wearing his light grey tweed and crimson tie that actually suited him somehow, she didn't need to look more than a second to take him in – her powers of observation were parallel to the doc sometimes, but she didn't boast the fact.

"I would kindly remind you to call me on my line or at least schedule new patients in my inbox calendar before you just ask them to barge into my office unannounced! Have you never used a calendar before?" He barked at her.

She just rolled her blue eyes at him. "Yes, I do know how to make appointments, I have for you for years."

"Oh really? And when ever do you find the time between painting your nails and surfing the web all day?"

She glared up at him, a look of more a sense of fatigue than actual anger crossed her emerald eyes as she pursed her frosted lips slightly. "If I had something more to do, then I wouldn't need to, would I?"

He ignored her and instead turned to the others in attendance, most with stunned looks – and considering it was Portwenn – was the normal appearance.

"So does anyone here actually have a medical condition?"

No one said anything for a few moments until a timid voice said.

"I think I may have the bubonic."

Martin looked dumbfounded.

"You mean the plague?"

"Uh – yes, I that's it!"

"Right!" The doctor declared, ignoring the patient – he turned on his heel and went back to his office – slamming the door.

Pauline just looked up and sarcastically blew him an unseen kiss.

(Sunday afternoon, around 4:30 PM):

Due to the fact that most Sundays tended to be quiet, Martin sat in his office alone, catching up on paperwork.

Pauline had the day off – so it actually felt more like a mini vacation.

His office normally was so dark that he sat contemplating it for a moment and at last stood up and crossed over to the front room to sit at Pauline's desk where a gentle breeze blew from a window nearby.

It was to be one of those days, where no matter how hard he tried – he simply found he couldn't concentrate.

Looking over her desk, he noticed her little iPod – a gift no doubt from Al as it was new. He turned it on after playing with it in his hands for a moment, immediately a playlist she'd saved began to play and some hip hop filled the room. It said Beyonce on the display, obviously the woman singing.

What kind of name was that anyhow? Beyonce? American. Yet, despite his first objections, he began to tap his foot in time with the tune.

He picked it up and eyed it contemplatively for a moment and found that he couldn't help but smile, it was so dainty, as if it would only fit her hand. He thought about her expression earlier that week – perhaps he'd been a little hard on her. He shook it off, if she had only shown a little care in her job…but at least she wasn't her cousin Elaine.

A picture came up on her screensaver, some shots no doubt of her personal album. He watched in fascination as they changed every few seconds. Smiling, relaxed and confident, she posed on the beach in what looked like a life vest – no doubt her coastal training. Laughing with Bert at his restaurant – almost without even having to try, he could hear her laugh in his head – he sort of liked it, but he'd never admit it in a million years. It was definitely contagious. He had to admit, she was sort of cute in her own way.

"Oh God!" He cursed to himself as he felt uncomfortable for a moment, looking away and scratching the back of his neck. Could it be that he missed Louisa? What was this coming over him – that was the last thing he needed…

But, he couldn't help himself – looking around the room self-consciously as if she might be hiding watching him somewhere, he began to snoop around her desk some more.

His conscience got the best him finally and he decided it was best just to go back to his own desk. Shutting off her iPod he gathered up his paperwork and walked into the back office.

(Next morning):

Pauline came along through the winding streets of Portwenn as folks went about their daily business on her cherry red moped. It was something she got not too long ago with some winnings from a lotto game she played, one of the best things to happen to her in quite some time. She beeped at people playfully as she zipped along.

Arriving at the practice, she parked in her new spot alongside the stone steps leading up to the old stone house that had now housed the only doctor in town.

She hoped he'd be in a good mood today, but she knew it was a pipe dream and that the stark reality would hit her as soon as she stepped through the door.

Depositing her helmet neatly under her arm, she knocked the kick stand out on her bike and walked around the front entrance and then hopped up the steps. As she did, she noticed Bert Large, Al's father already waiting for her by the front entrance – he was early today. She loved the man, he was like her second dad – correction, her only father as her own had run out on her and her mom before her eighth birthday. She smiled slightly as she saw him.

"Bert, here for your back? How ya doin'?" She replied gently, taking his arm and opening the door to help him in.

"My lover, it hurts like the dickens, but you know what they say – a little pain means you're alive, so I must be the luckiest bastard in the village, eh? Is the doc in? Do you think he would have time to see me? The back is giving me grief today, just a little hitch, shouldn't have been lifting those crates."

"I can check his schedule, come on in," she said coming into the front waiting room, sparse but familiar, she threw back the curtains near her little desk in the corner. Bert took a seat in the window seat in front of her desk and watched her go about her daily routine.

The word 'schedule' got her skin up a bit from her argument with Dr. Ellingham the day before but she instantly dismissed it. She had to develop a thick skin working here, usually she was a peaceful person, but she knew how to hold her own.

"Anything would be fine, Paul. How are you holding up by the way? I mean, it's been like five months since my boy left to go back to see your cousin again – you doin' alright? It's been rather more of a struggle running the restaurant without an extra hand," Bert said, constantly chatty as he always was.

"I'm fine, Bert, thanks," she answered, dismissively and sat down at her desk. She then glanced up at him and tried to brave a smile, but it looked false and she knew it. She brushed back a lock of her reddish hair in irritation as she switched on her PC.

As she did, that's when she noticed it – the things on her desk –

They'd been moved…

"What on earth…?" She whispered in shock and started touching them, incredulously.

"What's wrong, darlin'? Some celebrity in London in town? You know who I would love to see – hmm – that Kylie Minogue. Now there is a celebrity…"

"No, someone has moved my stuff. It wasn't me – that means…"

"Oh come now, I don't think the doc would mess with your desk."

She glared hard across the room to the doctor's office, his door still closed.

"I wonder if he's checking up on me," she snarled and started rearranging her belongings with a rather angry look on her face.

Then, she brought up her calendar.

"Bert, he's free at the moment, but I think I need to talk to him first. Can you wait here? I may need backup!"

He looked unsure what she had in mind, but knew he was always there for a damsel in distress. "I'm here for you, honey, you do what you have to."

"Thanks."

Getting up, she took a deep breath and went to the doctor's office and knocked on his door.

"Yes! Come in!" Barked a familiar voice on the other side.

Pauline opened the door and walked in.

"Bert is here to see you, there is no one else waiting outside," she mumbled. Her voice was dispassionate.

Dr. Ellingham didn't even look up at her as he said.

"Very well, send him through."

But, she stood her ground, not moving from the door, even as Bert stood up hearing his name. She turned to beg him to sit back down and then continued to glare hard at the doctor, her arms crossed in front of her.

He glanced up to see her sour expression and couldn't for the life of him why she wasn't letting Mr. Large in.

"Pauline, move aside and let Bert in the office!" He demanded, his voice enunciating the words as if she were a twelve year old.

"Did you move my things?" She replied, point blank and still not moving a muscle.

He looked up at her as if she were mad. "Things?"

"Yes, that's right – my things! On my desk! My stuff! Did you snoop through my desk?"

His reaction was immediate, he'd been so careful to put stuff back where they belonged – he never thought she'd notice. Certainly more fastidious than he realized. In guilt, he looked away and started to stare down at his desk.

"You did! I can't believe this! That is my only sanctuary in this entire office! You have every other room – the kitchen, your office, the upstairs. I have one spot, a tiny little hovel near the window!" She snarled, but even as she did, her voice still didn't raise in pitch. She was remarkably calm for how angry she really was.

"I don't know what you're talking about…" he muttered and still didn't look at her. He couldn't admit it.

"I can't believe you. I mean, you don't pay me enough for this for starters!"

She was definitely related to Elaine, there was no doubt.

Dr. Ellingham looked rather sheepish, unable to look her in the eye. Pauline didn't perceive it as guilt – to her it was his usual rude way of dismissing her.

But, this time he was to win as she threw up her hands.

"Fine! But, I want a padlock for my desk!" She snarled and waved her finger at him.

He looked a bit intimidated as he glanced up at her, still unable to respond.

Turning on her heel, she stalked off in the opposite direction – only to realize she was heading for the kitchen rather than her desk by mistake. Doubling back, she instead headed past the doctor's office for the front lobby.

It was the doctor's next reaction to her that set her off again – this time totally out of character for even him – out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw him smile.

Stopping, she looked up at him in surprise.

"Do you think I'm funny or somethin'?"

Now Bert was observing the pair in fascination, getting a front row seat.

"No! Pauline don't be absurd – now, please let Mr. Large in for his appointment!"

She just walked away in a huff and went to fetch him.

As Bert stood, he suddenly caught her elbow as she passed and gently pulled her aside.

"Paul, my love – do you feel like a wager?"

"Bert, I'm not going to run down to get you some meds from Mrs. Tishell!"

"No, no – not that! How would you like to make 60 quid?" He asked her, his eyes glowing.

"Bert!" Shouted the doctor from his office, growing impatient.

"Just a sec, doc! Honey, if you can make him laugh – I mean a really good, ole belly laugh in three months – I'll give you the money, but remember – someone has to witness it!"

"Bert! You don't have that kind of money like that!" She complained.

"Now, now – 'ye of little faith – I'm only offering this once."

Finally, she relented.

"OK!"

"That's my girl!" He said, grinning at her. He patted her on the arm and went in to his appointment.

What had she just agreed to?

(Later on that afternoon):

As Pauline sat at her desk, trying to find something to preoccupy herself from the monotony, her mind drifted once again to Bert's wager.

Make him laugh.

Was that even possible?

A smile at her expense was one thing, but anything more than that was asking too much!

Did he even have a funny bone in his body, aside from the occasional sarcastic barbs that were often decidedly cruel in nature?

Maybe if she were to take the local stray dog and dangle it by its paws over the village pier…

Suddenly, she noticed that the office had grown strangely quiet and that there were no more booked appointments until tomorrow.

Glancing up at the doctor's office, she saw that his door was ajar and he was sitting motionless at his desk. He seemed to be looking off into the distance, his eyes glassy.

No doubt dwelling on Louisa. Poor man.

For a moment, her heart went out to him. Things had never been easy for him since he arrived in Portwenn. Now one of his main sources of comfort had left him. He had only his Aunt Joan left.

She felt horrible for her earlier outburst and decided to go in and apologize.

Knocking softly on his door, he glanced up to notice her standing there.

Clearing his throat, uncomfortably – he collected himself.

"Pauline, what is it?"

"I – um – I wanted to say sorry for yelling earlier."

He nodded and quickly said. "Ah yes, thank you.

She stood awaiting for his own apology, but could see there was none forthcoming.

"Apology accepted," she said, under her breath.

"Sorry?" He asked, not hearing her, but gathering from her bitter tone – he figured she was trying to be sarcastic.

"Close enough," she quipped.

He opened his mouth to protest, but decided it wasn't worth it and looked away.

"So – packin' it in for the night then, eh? Quiet day today."

"Yes," he replied, and started to absently work on some paperwork on his desk.

"Big plans for the weekend?" She continued to ask, trying hard to make small talk.

He sensed it right away and instead didn't answer her.

"I hear kite surfing is quite the thing."

"Kite surfing? In Portwenn? Are you mad? Do you have any idea the amount of injuries incurred from that reckless endeavor that they deem a sport? Half of the population of this village would perish before they figured out how to maneuver the kite!"

"I was just making conversation!" She snapped.

"I see," he replied and went back to his paperwork, solemn as ever.

Pauline sighed and knew that there was no point to continuing. But, she added one last thing.

"Well, if you ever need someone to talk to…"

"Mmm…" he mumbled and just ignored her. "Goodnight, Pauline – lock up when you leave if you'd please…"

"Fine," she grumbled.

She walked to her desk and gathered up her coat, without another word, she left the office – careful to lock the door as she did behind her.

It was Martin who looked up for a moment to absorb her comment about having someone to talk to. She had no idea how much he had to hold back from accepting her kind offer immediately – draining his pain still keen in his heart to her over two cups of freshly brewed tea.

…But, he didn't – instead he went back to his paperwork, which was nothing more than a grocery list for the clinic.

(The following Sunday):

Pauline lay back in her large, iron-cast bed in Al's old room, listening to the regular street commotion just below her window as the sun came in to cast rays upon her soft linen nightgown. Lifting her hair up slightly, it sprayed down on her pillow as she laid her hand on her stomach and stared up at the ceiling, the reflection from their nearby ocean making it look like it was shimmering above her.

This wasn't her place – it was Bert Large's. He'd had been exceptionally kind in letting her live since he left, knowing how callous her mom was and how difficult it had been for her to live with her anymore.

Yet, still there were reminders of Al wherever she was in this place and each day never got easier. She could see his clothes he'd left behind to keep in storage still in a closet near her own. His electronic gizmos and stuff he'd been working on for hobby on the bureau. Even the indentations he'd left in the bed where he always slept on the right hand side of her.

Pauline closed her eyes for a moment as a tear slipped down her cheek.

Why had he gone after Elaine? She never cared about him. One word and he was half way around the world looking for her, hoping to win him back. Was it because she was more flirty? Younger? More energy?

All she knew is he wasn't here anymore.

"Tosser!" Someone shouted outside her window.

Pauline suddenly turned over when she heard the curse and knew that it could only mean one person was passing on the street.

Jumping to her feet, she peered discreetly over the window sill to see Dr. Ellingham marching indignantly past the resident to his place up the street, a blue stripped bag in one hand. As he did, he couldn't help but feel someone's eyes on him and looked up to see Pauline watching him from above.

He didn't smile or acknowledge her, but for a few minutes stood there and stared at her. His mouth quivering and his eyes changing expression just for a moment. Then he continued on, tripping a bit at first.

She watched him in curiosity. Why hadn't she at least been polite and waved?

Though she guessed perhaps because in her heart she knew it was a wasted effort.

Watching after him for a few minutes, she at last got up and sat down on the end of her bed. Now all she could think of was him and it was a welcome relief.

What did she need to do to crack the armor of that man? What made him tick? What got to him, effected him? She needed to make him laugh. More over, she needed the money.

Running across the room, she grabbed a notepad she kept for writing friends and began to take notes on what she knew about him. It became a checklist.

1. He's lonely.

2. He doesn't like animals, especially dogs.

3. He speaks very little about himself.

4. He has one living relative in the area, his aunt, Joan Norton.

5. He owns a Lexus.

6. He's clumsy.

Looking down at her list, she realized it wasn't much to go on and not very flattering. There had to be more to him than this – after all these years, was this the best she could come up with?

She tried to stretch what she could first see of him on the surface and think a bit deeper:

1. He's kind of scared of who he is. He's a good guy under it all.

2. He wants to say things, but holds back.

3. He loved Louisa, so he is capable of caring for someone.

4. He fears blood, it's probably stress not the phobia.

5. He likes me, but he doesn't want to admit it – and I think he likes me helping him.

She laughed at the last one. Did she really believe that?

Pauline decided she really needed more to go on. But how?

Time to do a bit of research on the dear doctor, she decided to recruit the help of his Aunt. If anyone knew more about the doc, it was certainly his aunt.

(Later, on the farm on the edge of town – the home of Joan Norton):

As Pauline pulled up on her moped through the tall, yellow grass along the road, she could see Joan going about her daily routine as she tended to her flock of chickens. The elder lady heard her and looked up in surprise.

"Pauline! What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Oh hi Mrs. Norton. I just thought I'd come by and you know – see how you are and such. Do you have a minute?" She asked, trying to sound light and friendly.

"Of course, dear, come on in – I'll put us on a pot of tea!"

"Grand!' Pauline chirped and followed her down the path to her small farmhouse.

(Inside after a few minutes, they got settled and shared a bit of conversation over some tea and biscuits):

"So, what did I do to deserve the surprise visit?" Joan asked frankly as she leaned over to re-fill Pauline's cup.

The girl looked a bit fidgety as she stared down at it, rubbing the china design on the side with her thumb.

"I just wondered if you could tell me about the doc," she replied simply, still not really looking at her.

Joan stopped what she was doing and looked down at her. "Martin, you mean? What do you want to know?"

"What he was like when he was younger. Did he have things he liked to do? Friends? Did he have a dog?" Pauline asked, sitting up a bit and her eyes glowing with interest. She then tried to act nonchalant about it. "I mean, just being…"

"Curious? It's alright, dear, you can ask – I'll tell you, I know he won't. It's not easy working with him all these years. It's about time you knew a bit."

She smiled at her, it was so comforting being here – she was nothing like him. Pauline felt as if she could ask her anything.

"He was very shy when he was young, he didn't have many friends. He did have this one boy that almost became a friend of his, but Martin's parents took him away in the summer semester before they had a chance to get close. His name was Eddie I believe, sweet boy. I think he lives in Cardiff now. As for what he liked to do – he often enjoyed tinkering with things around my place, he always insisted on fixing things for me when they broke down. Nothing too dirty or manually challenging – more a sort of fine touch for things like my clocks and such. He liked music, especially when I played jazz standards from the 30s and 40s and also classical. He still listens to that I believe. He never cared much for animals, unfortunately, though I think he secretly formed attachments to some of my horses I had when we raised them with my husband."

Pauline smiled, it was as if she could see the little moments of him playing across her mind. It was a decidedly nice and normal childhood. She wondered what had happened to change that.

"You mentioned that he was taken away during summer semester. Was that right in the middle of the school year? Why did they do that? Didn't they want him to finish?"

Joan turned solemn as she asked and it was then that she knew she'd perhaps asked too much. But, she went on without hesitation.

"My brother didn't want Martin exposed to me, unfortunately. You have to keep this to yourself, only Martin and family know of this – but I had an affair when I was married. I loved Martin, I treated him like a son. But, when my brother Christopher found out – he thought I was socially degenerate and took him away."

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, I had no idea," Pauline apologized, putting her hand on the older lady's in concern. "I didn't mean to pry."

"It's alright, dear. It's just a part of my life – I'm not ashamed of it, at least not anymore."

She stood up and went to pour some more hot water into the kettle, turning her back momentarily to Pauline.

"Maybe I should just go," she excused, feeling that maybe Mrs. Norton was uncomfortable.

"Pauline, you're fine, you don't need to leave on my account. You have to stay for lunch. I'll tell you more about Martin, if you wish."

She smiled at her and finally sat back down. "I'd like that actually."

Joan stopped and looked down at her, touching her soft cheek with her hand, rubbing the little mole on the left one fondly.

"So what is this sudden interest you have in Marty?"

Pauline blushed wildly despite herself.

"It's nothing like that!" She shouted and then calmed down suddenly. "I just – "

"Yes?" Coaxed Joan.

"He looked like he needed someone to talk to the other day and I wanted to have something to talk to him about when he wants to."

Joan didn't buy it, but smiled kindly at her anyhow. "You're a good soul, Pauline. I'm glad Martin has you working by his side."

She smiled back at her. "Thank you, Mrs. Norton."

"Ah ah – please – call me Joan."

"Joan."

"I know – would you like to see some pictures I have of Martin? In days when he still had his long, wavy blonde locks?" Joan asked and walked out of the kitchen.

Now Pauline was excited. "Ohhh..yeah! Absolutely!"

(That week, Martin is travelling out himself to his aunt's house to drop off some mail he received on her behalf in regards to the ownership of her home. It was something he was still trying to work on settling as she was struggling financially to keep it):

He knocked on her door and immediately she answered it.

"Oh hello Marty, come on in. I put on some lunch. Do you have time to chat?" She asked, walking away from him as he handed her her mail.

"Yes, for a half an hour, then I have some patients back at the office with appointments. The estate agent sent you something…"

He closed the door behind him and ducked as he stepped into her room.

She looked back at him and grinned to herself for a moment.

"You know I had a surprise visitor a few days ago," she teased, a twinkle of amusement in her grayish eyes.

"Oh really, and who would that be?" He asked, not sharing her sense of humor.

"Your receptionist."

Martin stood in his tracks and looked at her in shock. "Pauline?"

Now his aunt was smiling at his reaction. Oh there really was more to this than she initially thought.

"Yes, that's right. She was quite inquisitive about you and your past. So, would you like to tell me what's going on or am I going to be the last one to find out as usual?"

"What? I – I – nothing is going on! Don't be ridiculous!"

His face was beet red, he couldn't help it – he felt both humiliated and a little shaken at the same time. Why was she prying? And, why was his aunt looking at him that way?

"She had no right…!" He tried to protest, but it only made matters worse as his relative's smile grew. "Stop grinning at me like that!"

"Fine, I'll behave myself. But, I've seen you only like this one other time in your life when you came to Portwenn and that's all I'm going to say on this," she chided lightly, still trying to hide her smile.

"Auntie Joan, I have absolutely no interest in my receptionist – romantic or otherwise. Now, what did the estate agent have to say?" He snarled, as he sat down at her kitchen table and refused to discuss the matter further.

Yet, his mind was going a mile a minute. What possessed Pauline to show up here out of the blue and start inquiring about him? What was she up to? Was this revenge for rifling through her desk a few days ago? The woman always did have a screw loose at times, this just confirmed it.

He knew he wasn't going to be able to think straight until he got the matter settled, standing up he decided to take his leave.

"I think I'm going to pass on the lunch."

She looked up at him in shock. "You have to have something to eat, Marty. Sit down!"

"I have appointments, you can fill me in on the details of the letter later."

He walked over and brusquely kissed her on the cheek, moving for the door before she had a chance to stop him.

"Marty? Marty!"

He was already half way to his car before she could say anymore.

Sighing, she threw down a dish towel she was holding and sank into her chair. How he ever got himself into these predicaments with women was beyond her.

(Back at the cottage where his office was, Martin parked his Lexus and then immediately ran for the door – he was a man on a mission today as he rudely pushed the little Jack Russell terrier aside that was following him at his heels):

"Pauline!" He shouted as he came to the front door.

Everyone in the lobby who was awaiting the doctor's return looked up in alarm, especially the lady herself at her desk. There was a definite ominous tone in his voice – she knew he'd found out about her little visit.

Looking around, she tried to find a path of escape, but the door had already open.

Had he been a bull or an ox, there might have been smoke rising from his nostrils as he stepped into the practice.

She saw him glaring at her, his eyes full of rage and knew instantly she'd gone too far.

"Umm…your first patient is here. Mrs. Leonard, you can go in now."

A sweet, old woman stood up, but as soon as she saw the doctor, she made a bee-line for the receptionist's desk.

"You know, dear, I don't really mind coming back another time. Is there a possibility of making it for – oh, let's say, a month's time from now?" She asked, looking furtively at the panicked girl.

"Sure, sure – let's see what we have, Mrs. Leonard."

Folks tried to stand to intercept the doctor with their problems, but he just ignored everyone and went straight for her desk instead.

"Have you taken leave of your senses? Do you have any idea what kind of position you've put me in?" He yelled as he leaned in close, his hands on Pauline's desk.

The older lady was fairly shaking. "I'm so sorry, doctor, I didn't mean to reschedule, we can go on with the appointment as planned. That's fine."

"No, not you! Take a seat in my exam room, thank you!"

She scurried along like a scared little rabbit.

By this time, Dr. Ellingham noticed his receptionist was starting to burrow her way the same way under her desk.

"Oh look at this, there's a loose cord down here!" She muttered, trying hard to disguise her fear as she ducked out of sight.

"Pauline, come up here so I can talk to you properly! What are you doing? I know you spoke to my aunt!"

"It's not safe to leave this here, someone might trip and break a hip. Can't have that now, can we?" She said loudly as she continued to fumble around.

Frustrated, he ran around the other side of the desk to where she had already made a nice, simple nest for herself underneath. He pulled back her chair and got down on his hands and knees to tunnel in behind her.

"You are being ridiculous, come up here this minute!" He snarled, trying to take her hands and pull her forward, but she crossed her arms and refused to budge.

"I'm not coming out there until you calm down!" She snarled and tried to push him away.

"I'll calm down when you come out and talk to me like a reasonable adult!"

What he didn't realize as he took another swipe for her hand was that the little dog he'd managed to usher from the clinic doors had made it's way in through a nearby window and was again at his heels.

As Martin leaned in closer to Pauline, his ankle was bared as his sock came down a bit inside his patent, leather shoe. That's when the dog fondly licked at his bared skin with his tongue.

Martin jumped in surprise and fell face forward into Pauline. He managed to stop just short of her, his nose pressed up against hers and looking her directly in the eye as they were a mere breath away from one another. She hiccupped a bit in response as the words were caught in her throat. She never noticed how nicely gray his eyes were before. He didn't pull away immediately as a profound blush came across her cheeks – covered by lovely, cinammon freckles.

His hands were resting in her lap and it was at that precise moment that he could feel her arms around his back for support.

Coming to his senses at last, and breaking free from her loose embrace – he suddenly sat up on the floor to regain his composure for a moment, he looked over at her one last time, there was a quiet fear there and no longer the anger she sensed before. Then, it returned, like a dark cloud over his expression.

Getting up on his feet, he growled a bit to himself and then at the dog that had caused the scene in the first place. The pooch scurried behind one of the awaiting patients.

Without another word, he strode across the room and slammed the door behind him.

Pauline didn't leave her hiding place for a few moments, still stunned by the small moment. She didn't know what to think with his reaction or her own for that matter.

Finally, one of the patients came around and peered down at her.

"Are you alright, my dear?" He asked. "Do you need a hand?"

"Thanks, yeah, I might," she replied and took the elder man's hand. She brushed herself off and stared at the doctor's door for a moment, quietly contemplating it.

"That's no way to treat a lady, he should be ashamed of himself!" The man spoke up on her behalf.

But, Pauline didn't answer, she just stared at his door.

(Later that evening, once the clinic had been cleared of the day's patients):

Pauline decided to stay well after her quitting time, she knew she needed to clear the air. But, she was still determined to keep the details of Bert's wager to herself. She would think of another excuse.

Deciding to see if she couldn't convince the cranky doctor to join her for some tea after apologizing for her previous behavior – she took a moment before she went about the task to glance inside her desk drawer. Inside, she looked down at a little picture that his aunt had given to her that fascinated her.

It was a picture of Martin Ellingham before he was known as a doctor. He looked about thirty something, standing in a field possibly Joan's with a dark navy blazer on, jeans of all things and a rather stern but quiet expression. What was most interesting was the wavy locks of blonde hair that fell softly around his ears making him look years younger. He actually looked – dare she think it – handsome.

Giggling a bit, she pushed the drawer closed to hide it away and walked across the room to the kitchen.

Martin looked up as he heard someone puttering around in the kitchen. It couldn't be her still – it was quitting time and she always left on the dot.

Getting up, he went to see what was going on only to see Pauline busy making some tea and looking for some cups from the dishwasher.

"It's late, you should be going home," he said, quietly as he came up beside her.

"I know."

He paused for a moment.

"The tea is in the cupboard," he said, as he watched her.

She looked up at him and smiled. She guessed that was his way of saying she could stay.

"What kind do you prefer? I like herbal."

"Rubbish," he grumbled. "Earl Grey."

She nodded to herself. "I'm sorry about earlier, I shouldn't have gone pokin' around and such. I just wanted to find something to talk to you about."

"Why?" He asked simply, looking at her as she worked.

"What do you mean 'why'? I wanted to talk to you is all."

"There is nothing to talk about," he grumbled and then just sat down at his kitchen table, still contemplating her as she went about her business.

"That's fine, we can listen to the kettle boiling then," she replied, smirking slightly. "Want some biscuits?"

"They're my biscuits and you should be asking me."

"Right! Pauline – would you like some biscuits?" She said in a deep voice, pretending to be him. She broke up laughing. "Don't mind if I do! Thank you, doc!"

"Very funny!" He snarled.

She sat down across from him and then just proceeded to stare at him, a bit of a smile coming across her face as she did.

He just looked at her blankly in response. "What?"

"I just – nothin'" she answered and immediately clammed up. "It's – why did you cut your hair like that?"

"What's wrong with my hair? My hair is fine!"

"It looks better longer, more blonde showing. Makes you look more – human."

His eyes grew big. "You saw my pictures?"

"It was your aunt's idea."

"Great!" He hissed and then indignantly stood up and began to pace the room.

"Where are you going?" She asked, thinking he was about to leave.

But, instead he turned and began to rant. "You had no right to go out there to my aunt's farm and pry into my business or hers for that matter! Is this some sort of – vendetta?"

"No!" She cried. "What do you mean vendetta? Like the mob?"

"No, not like the mob! For digging in your desk the other day."

"Which you did do!" She answered, looking as if she was in the right and she knew she was. "Which you also never apologized for!"

"That's not the point!"

"I didn't go to speak to your aunt because of that."

He sat down again, but wouldn't look at her. As he did he heard her mutter.

"An apology still would have been nice."

"I'll buy you a padlock!" He snarled. "And never listen to Beyonia again."

"Beyonce," she corrected. Now she began to giggle a bit.

"Well – yes – whatever her name was."

She couldn't get the smile from her face now as he looked up at her, his face starting to…  
"You're blushin'!" She exclaimed.

He jumped to his feet again and went to the kettle. "Is the tea ready?"

"It hasn't even started boilin' yet," she said, plainly. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Nothing, I told you that already," he replied and sat back down. It was like musical chairs. Was he always this nervous?

"OK, that's fine. We'll just sit quietly then."

But, that notion just unsettled him. "Umm…about that patient that came in this afternoon, the lab tests…"

"Oh yeah, Mr. Markham. Yeah, he had that nasty cough. What's wrong with him?"

"I can't really discuss patient's confidential…"

"Yeah, you can – I'm your phlebotomist!"

"You're my receptionist, you do that on the side – it doesn't make you my nurse."

She scrunched her mouth a bit in anger, yet she kept her tongue.

"Is there something you'd like to say?" He insisted.

"Yeah, but my mother raised me to be polite around bossy figures," she answered, coolly.

"Authority!" He corrected.

"Same thing!"

They sat there quietly for a long time, a little bit of tension in the air before at long last she spoke.

"Is it TB?"

"Is what TB?" He asked her, looking up.

"What Mr. Markham has? He was asymptomatic for like a year and now he's coughing up a lung. Maybe he's a carrier and spread it."

Dr. Ellingham looked at her in shock. He was surprised frankly at how perceptive she was. "No, I don't think so. And, yes, he has TB."

She looked proud of herself for a moment.

"Oh, and Ms. Carlsen – she has Hep B."

"No, she doesn't – she has rheumatoid arthritis."

"I thought you couldn't talk to me about patients?"

"Yes, well, you brought it up. And, it's arthritis. I've already checked her for it!" He answered, feeling that she was out of her league.

"It's Hep B, that's why she has pain above her ribcage and not below. She had a tattoo when she was sixteen at some shady place out in Truro. She showed it to me."

"Well, why didn't you tell me that when she came for the last visit?"

"Because you said that you can't…"

"Discuss patient's confidential records with you, yes, I know – you won't let that go will you?"

She just grinned at him and it frustrated him even more. Finally he sighed and his tone changed a bit.

"Where did you learn all of that?" He asked her quietly.

"I was a masseuse to begin with when I was twenty, then my mom suggested I work at the local clinic in Newlyn. Yes, it was a vet but it was still a clinic!" She said as she saw him open his mouth to say something about her professional career. "But, I also learned a lot from a doctor there who used to be a gynecologist."

"He went from a medical practice to become a vet?" Martin asked her incredulously.

"He made more money."

"Really?" He asked, now floored.

"He owned four Porsches, I saw them."

"Given your penchant for trying to take over the practice in my absence, I'm surprised that you don't have the same!" He quipped and then suddenly clammed up, as if his attempt of humor had been a little too transparent.

She just grinned at him. "That was one time and the man was bleeding to death, how was I to know you were going to be so late after you decided to hike across the moors."

"You still treated one of my patients without…!" He started to say, his voice rising in pitch again.

She just held up her hand. "Uh uh…we're having tea, remember. There will be no arguing during tea time. I think the water is boilin'."

Going over to the kettle, she took it off the stove and then got two cups out, putting a bag of Earl Grey in each and neatly dropping a spoon into each.

She turned and set them down on the table as he just glowered at her angrily, she simply ignored him. Turning, she fetched some milk from the fridge and a tiny bowl of sugar nearby.

Sitting down across from him, she watched him as he began to stir his tea as if contemplating it or trying to read his fortune.

"You know, you can trust me, don't you?" She whispered at last.

He just glared up at her. "The man had a severe laceration from a meat slicing machine, it wasn't just a scratch!"

"I don't mean that," she answered quietly. "I mean, you can talk to me about other stuff than work."

"Hmmph!" He grumbled and didn't say anything.

"OK, I'll start then…"

But, it was at that moment that Dr. Ellingham rose to his feet.

"I think I'll take this and finish it in my room. Goodnight!"

She wanted to stop him, but decided it was best to let him go. Yet as he was mounting the stairs, he could hear her shout after him.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, you know – I just like to talk to you, even if you don't like talking to me. Maybe someday you will!"

He stood on the bottom step, her words leaving him dumbfounded for a moment. Turning, he went back to the kitchen – but all that was left of her presence was a cup of steaming tea not even touched. She'd left through the back door and was gone for the night.

(Two days pass, and Martin is walking along after picking up some simple things from the corner grocer. As he does, he hears a familiar laugh from the nearby beach):

Looking out to see if he could find the source of the sound, he noticed Pauline coming up on the shore with a group of young coast guard trainees, she was out of breath as she tried to pull the life raft she was helping lead up onto the sand. She giggled as she seemed proud of herself, a few of her nearby friends patted her on the back.

"Good job, girl. What do you say, do you want to go get some ale for your aches and effort at the pub?" Asked a young guy with curly blonde hair.

"Nah, thanks anyhow Matt, I think I'm going to go call it a day. I have to work tomorrow and need my energy," she said and wriggled out of her life jacket.

"Ey, girl. I don't know how ya' do it everyday working with the doc. He's a right, ole tosser – I'd have decked him long ago."

Now, Martin looked up a bit as he hid behind a nearby hedge a little to keep a covert distance and be out of eye shot. But, he listened closer.

"He's alright, Matt. I think he just needs someone to give him a chance sometimes. He's a bear at times, but, I don't know…"

"Just don't be naive, Paul. He'd fire you in a minute if you blink the wrong way."

"No, he's not like that. He needs me. I know it. He wouldn't do that to me."

"Didn't he fire you once?"

She was quiet, Martin's eyes grew quiet as he suddenly felt guilt creep into his bones.

"Yeah, just a stupid misunderstanding – that was my doin' anyhow. Come on, let's go, I don't want to wait until the tide comes and washes us back out to sea."

He sat up a bit and peered at her over the hedge as he watched her. She still didn't observe him there. He saw her undoing her ponytail that was holding her hair back as it fell in loose, copper-colored curls to her frame her shoulders. She kicked off her shoes and walked barefoot up the beach and seemed to giggle as the sand tickled her toes.

For a moment, it caused a funny tickle in Martin's stomach as he stared at her. It was a surprising feeling, a lovely warmth accompanied it and he knew what it was causing it. It was a familiar.

Cursing under breath at himself, he gathered up his belongings and quickly made a bee-line in the opposite direction up the street. As he did, he brushed rudely past someone he didn't see until he'd banged headlong into them.

"Tosser!" They shouted.

Pauline who had been walking nearby heard the comment and turned to see the doc walking quickly away in the other direction.

She stood watching him walking in his self-indignant way up the laneway.

It hadn't been her imagination after all.

Someone had been watching her – could it be…?

(That night at the Martin's cottage. He sat up in his rooms above the surgery and looked over at a newspaper article that was growing a little yellow now around the edges on top of his bureau. It was something he went over and over every day at least once):

Reading it a bit to himself, he found he didn't really need to even look at it – he knew it off by heart. It was a story about the appointment of the new school headmistress in Worcestershire, Louisa Glasson.

"Today, we at Moffats welcome aboard Ms. Louisa Glasson. Originally from Port Issac, Cornwall, Ms. Glasson, she has nine years of experience in teaching children between the ages of 4 and 10. We…"

But, Martin couldn't read it anymore. It hurt too much. All he could do was think over and over again was "Why?"

But he knew why…

She said that it was his infuriating manner of constantly being rude to everyone, including her; his problems with competing with her in every conversation they had together and his fear of intimacy that finally drove her away.

It was always him. Of course it was. He always had to deal with himself too, why should it be any easier for anyone else?

How could he do that to her? He had subjected her to it, why hadn't he just pushed her away like he did everyone?

Looking in the mirror, all he could see was a blank face, someone he'd forgotten long ago, he didn't even know himself anymore. It scared him. Where was that ambitious, young man who wanted to save mankind with his healing hands and to make the world a better place doing so? Suddenly, it no longer mattered.

She was gone, the one thing that made him feel alive of late, she was gone.

Angered beyond words, he suddenly shot his hand out and knocked everything that was sitting on top of his dresser to the floor.

As he did, he started to curse his stupidity, he just bought these things earlier in the day – a lovely vase for freshly cut roses from an elderly patient that secretly he'd enjoyed and some of his aftershave.

Clumsily, he tried to find something to clean it up with and ended up stepping into it with his bare feet.

"Ahhh!" He screamed out as he felt the pain immediately. Blood began to gush from the wound.

He tried hard to avoid looking at it. He had to treat it, lest it get infected.

But, as he did the pain brought something he wasn't expecting – fresh, hot tears which welled up in his eyes.

Falling down to the floor on knees, he leaned up against the dresser and cried openly.

Perhaps bleeding to death would be better for everyone…

(The next day, the clinic opened as usual and already it was teaming with people to see the doctor):

A woman sat across from Pauline in a chair near the stairs, she smiled uncomfortably and tried to be casual about it.

Pauline watched her for a few moments and sized her up – she wasn't from around here, she could tell it almost the moment the woman had opened her mouth when she approached her desk earlier. Her voice was too flat and featureless for it to be a local accent.

She asked her about it. The woman said she was from Canada. So that much had been certain.

About 40, she decided. Not particularly pretty but with nice, sanguine eyes hiding behind her rectangular glasses. A bit on the nervous side as her hand shook a bit, she tried to disguise the fact but it was clear. She had dark, chestnut hair that came down just below her ears, heavy set with a full nose that she rubbed occasionally as she let out another hacking cough and wiped the sniffles from her nose.

She offered the woman a kleenex and went to sit back down.

Suddenly, the door to the surgery opened and the doc emerged. He walked over to the filing cabinet near the reception desk to fetch some files on the new patient.

"Next patient," he said, quiet but the authority still plain in his voice.

"SARAH MARSHALL!" Screamed Pauline as if yelling for a hot dog at a ball game.

"Pauline, please!" Martin scolded. He then whispered. "You need to use a quieter voice when calling for patients, there's no need to scream!"

"Alright, sorry doc, I'll try," Pauline whispered and winked at him. "Sarah, you can go in."

Sarah, the woman across from her looked up and seemed puzzled. "I'm next?"

"Yes, you can go in," the receptionist kept on whispering.

The woman still looked confused.

"Oh for heaven sakes!" The doctor groaned. He went over and held open his hand for the woman. "Step into my office."

Pauline just grinned as she made her point and she knew it.

Inside the office, the woman sat down in front of Dr. Ellingham's desk and held her purse in her lap as if she were using it as a shield. Then, thought the better of it and dropped it to the floor beside her.

Martin sat down across from her and looked over her file.

"Yes, what can I do for you today?"

"Well, I've been having this rather nasty cough since I flew out here about a week ago."

The doctor looked up at her. "Where were you travelling from?"

"North Vancouver, British Columbia – that's in Canada."

"Yes, I know where that is," he grumbled.

"Sorry. I only noticed it, you know, on the flight. I was fine when I was at the airport. I'm wondering if I contracted something on the plane."

"Have you ever been sick before? It says here you're diabetic."

"That's right, I am. But, I've never experienced any symptoms like this with my blood sugar when it's fluctuating. I don't know what this is. It's like I feel dizzy sometimes and then it blends into these coughing fits I get. It's usually due to my problems trying to swallow."

"Swallowing? Well, that could be a number of things, but more than likely you either have a strain of some virus you picked up or it's part of your diabetes and it just hadn't manifested itself before. Let me check your throat."

Walking around the desk, he perched himself on the edge and loomed over her. She lifted her chin as he began to feel on either side of her neck with his hands.

Then he pulled away and contemplated her for a moment, looking at her from side to side.

"Definite swelling. Is it a new symptom?"

"Yes, I've only had it the last couple of days."

"It could be a number of things, but I think the most likely culprit is the virus I suggested, possibly the flu as you are too old to develop mumps. You've had all your immunizations?"

"Yes. I had them when I was younger. My mom was very good at making sure we got our shots," she replied. "So it's just a cold?"

"No, it's more than that, but I'm going to prescribe you some antibiotics. Try not to do too much sightseeing for a few days and get some rest. Come to see me later in the week if it hasn't cleared up."

He stood up and that's when Sarah Marshall noticed it.

"Umm…doctor, your foot – it's bleeding."

Martin looked down and grimaced, he hoped that it would stop on it's own. The wound was actually at the bottom of his foot, but had started to seep through his sock and was making a puddle around the sole of his shoe.

He looked pale for a moment as he caught sight of it, his stomach starting to turn. Why did he have to be hemophobic?

"It's nothing, just an old injury," he muttered and tried to steady his nerves. "See Pauline at the front, she will give you a prescription."

Sarah quietly nodded and looked at him in concern for a moment and then went to find the receptionist.

"So what does your paper say?" She asked Sarah as she came up to her desk. "Amoxicillin."

"Um…sorry, but I was noticing the doctor's foot was bleeding. He said it was fine, but it looked like it was causing him pain. Just thought I'd let you know."

Pauline looked up at her in alarm. "What? The doc?"

"Yes, Dr. Ellingham."

"Thanks, go take this to the pharmacy and ask Mrs. Tishell to fill this for you."

Sarah nodded and left the surgery.

Pauline ignored the next patient and went to see Martin herself.

Opening his door, she didn't knock but just stepped into the room.

"Pauline, what is it? Send in the next patient!" He barked, his face looking rather whiter than usual.

She glanced down at his foot to see a puddle of blood forming on the floor beneath it.

"Oh Gawd! What did you do? Your foot – it's injured!"

"It's nothing!" He dismissed and hid it beneath his desk.

"Nothing? You're gettin' your blood everywhere. Here, let me take a look at it!"

"Pauline! Go back to work, this doesn't concern you."

"Look, I know your blood thing – you probably don't want to touch it. I can put some bandages on it and wrap it for you," she said, running to his cart near the desk where he kept his tools of his trade.

"Leave me alone!" He shouted rather brusquely.

She looked up at him in surprise, but very firmly and loudly replied "No!"

This time he was the one who sat in surprise.

"Now, you listen to me," she said, grabbing a set of white cotton batting and waving it at him. "You're going to sit there, let me take off your shoe and put this bandage on you! If you give me any problems, I'm calling in PC Penhale! But, I don't think I will be needing him, will I? I think this is between you and me. You need to trust me!"

He gritted his teeth and looked down angrily at the desk. "Very well!" He grumbled.

"Good," she said, frankly impressed that he was finally listening to her.

Taking the bandages, she came around the other side of his desk and knelt beside him on the floor. Gingerly, she started to undo the shoelaces on his right foot that was clearly the problem one. He grimaced and hissed in pain as she tried as carefully and slowly as she could to remove it.

"Shush!" She whispered. "It's OK."

He watched her quietly and was amazed at how calm and professional she was.

"Why are you doing this?" He whispered.

She glanced up at him. "Because if you bleed to death that means a phlebotomist is going to be running the practice."

His eyes in that split second shone a little softer and then the most amazing thing crossed his face, despite the pain, he smiled at her.

She seemed startled, but then commented softly. "That's nice."

He coughed a bit in embarrassment and looked away.

"You need to do that more," she said.

Finally, she cradled his bare foot in her hand which was soaked in blood.

"Ehhh…" she cringed. "It's a mess. What did you do to yourself?"

"I – I stepped on some glass."

He took a moment to look at it and then felt nauseous all over again.

"Don't look, doc, let me do this. You just sit back. Wait! What is this? You have glass still in your foot?"

She picked out a large shard of it with her fingernail. He immediately jumped in response.

"Sorry. Didn't you treat it? Was it the blood thing?"

He was panting a bit as he replied. "Yes…of course I did…it stopped bleeding afterwards."

"So why didn't you take out the glass?"

He wouldn't answer her, but turned his head to stare blankly at the fireplace.

"You left it in? Why? You wouldn't do somethin' like that."

He was still quiet and finally it sank in.

"You're punishing yourself."

He closed his eyes briefly and replied. "Nonsense."

"Oh doc!" She cried, her heart going out to him. It wasn't only his foot that was a mess. She could tell he was hurting inside.

As his angry eyes, started to grow wet with tears, she instead decided to show him respect and not say what was on her mind.

"I won't ask anything else, you're right. Let me just dress for you."

He turned to watch her, as she tenderly handled his foot and bound it delicately with the cotton wrap. Such care and deliberation she showed, such a skilled hand. Tying it off, she glanced up at him. She stroked his ankle for a moment.

"There you go, good as new. But, you should use a cane, I don't think you can walk on it."

He nodded and just grumbled. "Yes, well – nice handiwork."

She smiled at him. "You're welcome."

Standing up, she was about to return to the lobby when she stopped at the door. He looked up at her expectantly.

"What? Did you forget something?" He snarled, back to his old self again.

She ran up without a word spoken and suddenly put her arms around his neck and shoulders from behind to give him a quick hug.

He started to protest, but she'd already let him go by that time. Running back through the door, she shut it behind her.

Martin looked at the closed door for a long time, still feeling her tiny arms that for a second had been wrapped around him in an embrace he wasn't expecting.

And realizing – how wonderful it felt.

(After hours, Pauline was starting to turn off her monitor when the door to the doctor's office opened):

Martin quietly came out to stand in the lobby and watched her packing her things.

"You're leaving?"

"It's quitting time, doc. I'll be in bright and early tomorrow."

He just kept standing there until at last she looked up to acknowledge him with her light blue eyes.

"Ah, yes, right," he whispered.

"You OK?" She asked him, pulling her purse strap over one shoulder. "How's your foot doin'?"

"Better," he said softly and almost smiled again but stopped himself.

"Good."

Again the just stood there contemplating each other when she finally spoke. "You know, it's a long ride on my moped to home, don't suppose I could have a cup of tea before I hit the road?"

It was like a light was turned on in him suddenly and he raised his head at her words, his eyes turning soft. "Yes."

"Good," she repeated, smiling at him.

They just stood there, until finally, she dropped her purse on the floor and walked past him to the kitchen.

She stopped in the doorway and looked at him. "Do you need a hand? You can put your arm around my shoulders and lean into me."

"I think I can manage, Pauline," he growled, but his tone was softer.


	2. Chapter 2

Just For A Laugh – PART 2

She nodded and smiled as she followed him through the door and into the kitchen.

"Earl Grey?" She asked as she started the kettle.

"Yes," he said, content that she remembered. Sitting down without hesitation, he stuck his foot out slightly so that he could rest it.

As he watched her quietly going about her task, he decided to observe her as well for a moment. She brushed her hair back from her ear as she fished around in the sink filling the kettle with water, her errant hair curled around her ear anyhow and he saw a diamond stud shining in the half light. Her outfit was actually a bit more understated that normal today and it was only now he noticed it. She wore a gypsy skirt and nothing underneath as she usually did, the skirt moved with her and as it did it hugged her legs slightly showing off their curve as the transparency was evident in the light coming in from the door. Also her figure seemed to blend with the fabric of her brown cotton top that raised a bit to show off her lower back as she leaned in to grab some tea bags off a nearby shelf above her. He watched her lips form unspoken words as she strained to grasp the tea tin, the soft pearl color pursed a bit and he observed the long slope of her neck and the little mole on her left cheek as her eyes fluttered a bit and then turned to look at him, finally noticing his stare.

Shifting a bit in his seat, a hot flush came to his cheeks as he looked away.

She felt her heart stop for a minute. Was he watching her?

"Stupid tea tin!" She cursed. "Couldn't reach it!"

"Hmm," he growled and looked at the floor.

"You miss her, don't you?" She asked, thinking that was the only reason she'd become a sudden distraction for him.

"I don't know what you mean," he replied, still not looking at her.

"I miss him too, it's OK to admit it."

She sank down in a chair across from him but he looked decidedly uncomfortable about how familiar she was becoming.

"Pauline, I don't wish to talk about it with you."

"You should you know, it's not good to bottle stuff up inside. You of all people should know that – it will give you ulcers."

"That's unfounded. They have done studies to prove that the scientific factors behind…" he began to explain, feeling safe hiding behind his medical evaluations.

"Yeah, yeah – poppycock! It still gets to you, alright? Well, you might not want to talk about it but I will."

He started to rise.

"Oh yeah, there you go again, any little chance of a real conversation and you suddenly shut down. Come on, doc, talk to me – it's not a crime. Alright, tell you what – I'll make this tea for you and from now until I go home tonight, I won't say anything – you can do all the talking. I'll just listen."

He sighed elaborately, his face scouring and sour as he still didn't want to budge from his eyes boring a hole through the floor.

"I won't judge you," she whispered.

Suddenly, his eyes came up to meet hers and the honesty of her words got to him.

"You're still talking," he reminded her.

"OK, I promise," she replied, quietly. "You can say anything, I'll stay quiet."

For the longest time he just sat there, refusing to give in though his eyes were softer somehow as he looked into hers and he knew that she meant what she said. His defenses lowered for a moment.

"What do you want me to say?" He asked her.

"Doc, if I answer you, I'll be forced to talk again."

"I'm fine with that."

"Alright – so, what happened the other night?"

"I hurt my foot," he replied, rather glib.

"I know that, doc – I mean, what were you doing when you hurt it?"

"Reading."

Pauline put her head down a bit but kept her tongue. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Is the tea ready?" He asked abruptly. I was like a repeat performance of the other night.

"No, the water hasn't started boiling yet," she said, looking rather discouraged.

He sat there, his lips quivering for a bit and with Pauline staring at him across the table it wasn't helping his disposition any. She had to admit, his intense stare was intimidating and fascinating for her at the same time. It wasn't menace she felt, it was more a sense of trying to suss her out. So she let him do it. His eyes were unwavering and she looked back at him just as directly. His eyes were shifting between a pale blue and a soft gray, there was something more hiding behind them. It was like he wanted to open up to her but couldn't. His eyebrows lost their intensity and his expression seemed to relax.

"This is like a Mexican standoff," she mused outloud.

With those words, he became defiant thinking she was taking it all in fun again. Grasping the table, he tried to stand up. As he did, Pauline jumped to her feet and tried to block him from leaving. But, what she failed to notice was his foot was still sticking out in front of him. Tripping over it, she fell headlong into his lap.

He suddenly caught her and looked startled to be holding her, his arms around her waist.  
"Sorry…I…," she muttered, and knew he would no doubt freak out and throw her to the floor.

But, what she didn't expect is that he didn't let her go, instead she could feel his hands trembling yet bringing her a little closer until she found that her head was resting on his strong shoulder as arms tightened around her waist. It was as if he were wanting to return the favor for the hug she granted him earlier. She could sense his shaking again and knew he was fighting against it with every fiber of his being as his fingers clutched at her back. What she didn't know was how much he needed this as never before, someone and something to cling to.

Her heart stood still and she bravely lifted her own hands to softly try to hold him in return as she nestled herself in the safety of his lap. How strong he was and he real. She closed her eyes for a moment as she buried her nose against his neck and swore she could almost hear him crying a little.

Suddenly, as she had first expected, he stood up and she nearly tumbled to the ground before she managed to grab onto the table to steady herself.

"Goodnight!" He said coolly and walked out of the room for the front lobby without waiting for her reply.

She wanted to protest but instead replied softly. "Goodnight."

And then he left, with only the sound of his feet descending the stairs to his room up above.

What had just happened? And, what was happening to her?

Could it be? Nah!

But, as she touched her cheeks it became obvious – she had liked it.

(The next morning at the clinic):

Pauline arrived and reached for the doorknob to the cottage's front entrance with some hesitation. How was she going to face him today? How was he going to react? Would things be different now.

She secretly hoped the doc's countenance had softened, but within two minutes of walking inside, she could see that was not about to happen.

Martin was glaring angrily at her, looming over her desk with a pair of test tubes in his hand, the lobby was already full of expectant patients.

"You're late!" Was the first thing he said to greet her. "You need to send these immediately to the lab in Truro, I want the results by this afternoon!"

He laid the two tubes on her desk as soon as she circled around to sit down. To top them off they turned out to be blood samples – which meant he was taking on her responsibilities again as if he didn't need her. It was as if he had slapped her in the face.

"Sorry, but I wanted to say about last night I…" she tried to explain, glancing up benevolently into his reddened face.

"Now, Pauline!" He barked and without looking at her, stalked back towards his office.

"Next!" He shouted and disappeared.

She couldn't believe it – it was as if he were angry at her, after what they had shared. She hadn't done anything wrong, by his reaching out to her, she had somehow violated his boundaries. But, it had been him, not her. Nothing had changed.

She had a good mind to get up and walk back out the door again, but she didn't.

Instead she just looked around the room at folks in front of her. No one seemed to take notice at all of the conversation, it was like it never happened.

Pauline sat there for a moment, looking a bit lost of what to do.

Then, she took a folder out of the cabinet behind her and started to make up the form for the lab and the copy for the doc. As she did, she struck upon an idea.

Taking out her pen, she wrote at the bottom of his copy:

'I'm sorry if I did something wrong. I needed that hug too and it was nice even if it was brief. If you ever need another one, you know who to call.'

She didn't know if it would make a difference. She knew that she had reached him, but only to have him retreat away from her again.

Later that morning, Martin finally got done with his patient and was about to call on the next one. He looked up at Pauline who was eyeing him from across the room.

His voice was decidedly softer as he asked. "Who's next, Pauline?"

"Mr. Sedgewick, to your right."

Her tone was a bit distant and he felt a hint of guilt. He'd been too hard on her again, he could tell. But, he decided not to dwell on it.

Yet, he gave in a little.

"Thank you, Pauline."

She looked up in surprise and almost thought he was going to smile, but he hid his face away again and came up to her desk.

"The file?"

She gave it to him, but purposely let her fingers slip across the back of his hand for a moment as she did. He noticed it and he shook a little.

Coughing a bit, he called the patient into his office and shut his door.

Mr. Sedgewick sat across from him and quickly went into his symptoms in great detail, nearly telling his life story in the process.

By this time Martin had shut him out, only taking in the parts of the conversation that were medical as he glanced down at his file to catch anything the patient was not divulging. He was still thinking about Pauline's soft touch despite himself.

When he did, he noticed Pauline's little note on the bottom of the copies of the lab tests underneath the patient's file folder.

Reading it, he sat there for several moments in silence.

"Doc? So what do you think – is it cancer?" The elderly man across from him suddenly asked.

Dr. Ellingham was still sitting in a daze for a moment.

"Doc?"

"Yes!" Martin confirmed, not really listening to him.

"I have cancer?" The man exclaimed, his face draining of color.

He realized what he'd just confirmed and tried to backtrack. "I mean no – Mr. Sedgewick, I'll make a requisition up for you to visit the hospital for testing. You need to have a full scan to see if there are traces, until then just take care not to overeat and get rest."

The man nodded in relief, but still looked uncertain. "Thank you, doc!"

Later after hours, Pauline was feeling rather bitterly disappointed. Even the note had failed to bring the doc around. He gave no indication that he had even read it much less acknowledge her as he came out of his office earlier.

So when time for their evening tea arrived, she was already packing up her things to leave. She had her coat on and was reaching for her purse.

She was halfway to the door when she heard him come up behind her.

"Pauline?" He asked her, looking as if it was putting him out just being polite.

"Get it yourself!" She snarled as she reached for the door.

"Wait!" he cried up as the door opened.

She stopped and stood there waiting for him to say something more meaningful, to beg her to stay.

"Yeah?" She asked.

"It's a well known fact that missing a meal greatly affects your nutrition levels, so many folks think it's wrong to eat in the evening, but that's a misnomer, you have to eat during every part of the day. A light meal will…"

She came back into the lobby and looked at him hesitating near the entrance to his office.

"Is that your way of asking me to stay?" She asked him, quietly.

"Umm…yes," he said, feeling embarrassed slightly.

She grinned at him. "See, that wasn't that hard now, was it?"

His lip curled up into a snarl in disdain. He never liked it when she cornered him, at least not verbally – physically was a different matter. As she walked towards him to move past him for the kitchen, he seemed to be dancing in place looking for a place to stand.

She just came a little closer and put her hands on his waist, immediately he relaxed. There was something so calming about her, it was one reason she was so important to him in the practice, but he never told her so.

They just stood there, as she was still touching him. Finally, he couldn't take it any longer and put his hands on her shoulder to move her aside. But, found that he didn't want to and just looked down at her instead. He could see her eyes searching his as she could swear that he was rubbing her bare shoulders a bit with his thumb.

Then at least, he urged her to move a bit and it was over.

Catching her breath for a moment, she followed him into the kitchen.

There was another surprise waiting for her. On the counter was the tea tin, two cups, two spoons inside and her herbal tea in bags in each awaiting some hot water – already boiling away merrily on the stove.

She looked up at him, and even though his back was to her, she couldn't help but smile at him at the little thoughtful act he'd done for her.

Perhaps he was OK after all.

"You're going to try my Tetley Cinammon Spice are you?" She asked, finding it rather cute in a way.

"Ah yes, I figured…I needed a change…"

As he said those words, he turned to look at her directly in the eye and his expression softened. Now she was the one trembling a bit.

She smiled in return. "Yeah, everyone needs a change sometimes, eh?"

He nodded and sat down.

She went over to the table and took the chair across from them. She knew that for once, she didn't want to talk – she just wanted to be here sharing his company.

He sensed it in her, and turned quiet. He closed his eyes for a moment as he listened to the kettle perking along. He was just happy she was here in his presence, it was all he needed. Louisa always wanted to talk, but Pauline was different – it was nice somehow…

She looked up and studied him. He really could be quite handsome when he was at ease. The soft blue-grey eyes that even when he was angry looked emotional and confused, sensitive and caring and reaching out to you, almost hauntingly so as if he wanted to say so much with them. They were truly beautiful. That's why she always believed there was more to the doc than most people saw – except for her. She just knew it from the moment they first met. His upturned, bullish nose gave him a haughty air that was befitting him. Everyone always was struck by his ears, making comment about it – what she never did tell the doc was the one time someone did, she had tripped them in the street and sent them flying face first into the pavement, of course when he came in to have the injury that he sustained from it treated – she threatened to tell him that she would expose the affair he was having with the neighborhood gas station attendant he shut up about it immediately. Suffice to say no one tried it again in Portwenn, but yet, the doc never found out about it. She liked his ears, and couldn't help but grin as she continued to look over his face, his eyes still closed. She had to admit that his strong jaw and well formed lips fascinated her for a moment, though a little too full – she wondered what it would be like to…

What was she doing?

"Do you play any card games, doc?" She asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable and dying to get her mind on to other things.

He opened his eyes and glared at her. "Cards?"

"Yeah, like poker or somethin'?"  
"No," he snapped.

"Oh well, I could teach you."


	3. Chapter 3

He resolved that it was something to do rather than discuss things and relented. At first he made a crack about her past gambling addiction and to make sure they didn't play for real money. She gave him a snarly look but assured him they wouldn't.

The game went on for about a half an hour and naturally, Martin picked it up quickly. About the time he won the third consecutive hand – Pauline called it quits.

"Are you sure you don't want to do best four out five?" He asked her.

"No!" She said abruptly. "I mean, no, I think you have the hang of it – we'll play again some other time."

"Who taught you to play?" He asked her, feeling comfortable with just talking. She had a way of putting him at ease.

"My dad, that was until he ran out on me, my mom and my brother."

"I see," Martin muttered and looked down at his cards, nonchalantly.

"Do you see your parents?" She asked him.

"I try not to."

"I see," she parroted back to him. He glanced up with a look on his face as if he caught her sense of sarcasm and she just grinned at him.

She pushed a stray lock of her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and he watched her a little longer again. She sensed it and caught his eye.

He didn't care any longer if she saw that he was blushing as he looked even more intently at her.

This time, she was the one to call it a night.

Standing up, she gathered up her purse from the back of her chair. "Well, I better be going, it's getting late. See you in the morning, doc."

"You haven't finished your tea."

"I know. Oh shoot, I have to get my cell phone, I left it by my desk. I'll be right back."

Getting up, she dashed off out of the kitchen to the front lobby.

The doctor sat there, silently contemplating his tea and hers across the other side of the table. His cup was empty save a couple of drops. He couldn't help but notice she'd barely touched hers. It seemed like such a waste.

Reaching across the table, he picked her cup up and raised it to his lips, never noticing the lipstick residue still on the brim as he swigged the tea down and it warmed his throat immediately. She liked it a little sweeter and creamier than what he was used to – which was normally black. Yet, it tasted marvelous somehow. Maybe he'd have to start adding cream and sugar to his.

Pauline returned to the kitchen to pick up her purse and say her goodbyes.

"I'll be back in around 8:30, if you need anything, you have my num…"

She was saying the words when she glanced down at him, her tea cup she had been nursing was now cradled empty in his hands, the lipstick stain on the side smeared and what was left of it was on his own mouth, turning it a delightful shade of light pink on the bottom lip.

She was the one blushing now – he had actually drunk from her cup!

"Umm…doc?"

"What is it?" He said, feeling as if he was under inspection, his prickly mood returning, but he looked rather ridiculous with the lipstick shading his lips.

She walked around him, and bending down, took her fingertips and gently brushed her shade from his lips.

Now he trembled at her delicate touch as she stopped what she was doing when she realized the effect she was having on him as he stared into her face, his eyes growing large as he could feel her breath a bit on his nose. As her finger lingered, his lips separated.

"Not that coral lipstick doesn't look good on you," she whispered. She could feel her heart beating a bit faster than usual and suddenly pulled away.

"See you tomorrow!" She said, and ran for the kitchen door.

"Pauline!" He yelled after her, but she slammed it behind her before he could stop her.

For a long time he sat there in silence, looking at the place where she had sat only moments before.

There it was.

That same bewildering feeling, that warm sensation that filled him up inside where he didn't think there was any room. The same feeling he'd felt for…

Slamming his fist down on the table so the china cups rattled, he snarled and got up.

Walking across the kitchen, he was about to leave when he stopped and looked back to the table. All he could see was her sitting there, tucking the strawberry blonde curl behind her ear.

And suddenly like that, the warmth returned to his life…

(Two days pass, and at Joan Norton's farm on the outskirts of town, she is having her plumbing being looked at by Bert Large):

"Want some coffee, Bert? How's it coming along?" Joan asked, feeling impatient as she checked on him in the back boiler room.

"Don't mind if I do, love, but I have to ask you – when are you going to let me replace these antiquated pipes? They are corroding as fast I'm fixin' em!"

She rolled her eyes. "When I'm six feet under, Bert – there's nothing wrong with them. Please just fix the leak."

"You know, it's funny. Leaks are like that, they start off as just this little trickle and before you know it – bam – your kitchen is flooded. I could do it, say for 50 quid."

"No, Bert!" Joan replied. "Black or white?"

He looked at her puzzled. "Sorry?"

"Your coffee!" She replied.

He rubbed the damp rag he was using across the back of his thick neck and giggled in embarrassment.

"Oh yes, um – white please, two sugars."

As she went about fixing it for him and throwing a couple of biscuits on a small dish to show her begrudging gratitude for his help, she jumped as when she turned around to see Bert standing directly behind her.

"Bert! Give me some warning when you're about to sneak up on me like that – my heart isn't what it used to be!" She said, looking at him with a bitter scowl.

"Sorry Joanie. I just wanted to tell you something that I've been rather keeping confidential until – well, now you have to keep this to yourself – but…"

"What Bert?" She demanded, looking quite flustered. She just wished he'd concentrate on his work and less time on talking.

"The doc – he's not exactly what you'd call a jolly guy, is he?"

"Marty? No, I wouldn't say it's one of his strong points."

"Well, I made a wager with Paul – I told her, if she can make the doc laugh in three months I'd give her 60 quid!" Bert replied, his face breaking into a snicker.

Joan was looking angry now. "Bert, I – wait…"

"What?"

"That's why she was here! Oh my God! Of course!"

"What in sam hell are you talking about, woman – you've lost me."

"Pauline, she showed up out the clear blue at my house one day, asking all sorts of questions about Marty. I thought perhaps he was just giving her a hard time and she was trying to understand him, but as the visit went on – I thought she had a thing for him!"

Bert openly started laughing now. "Pauline? Little Paul and the doc?"

"I know, it's ridiculous. But, she wanted to see pictures of him and our horses and…"

"Pictures?"

"Yes, what?" She asked, not quite sure what was now wrong.

Bert sat down at Joan's table and sighed. "If she was trying to get to the doc's funny bone, what good would looking at pictures of him do?"

Joan didn't know how to answer.

"You don't suppose that your first suspicions are right?" Bert asked her, bravely considering the fact.

She looked at him and couldn't help but smile. Then she poo-pooed it.

"No, it couldn't be!"

Bert just shrugged at her and smiled. "Anything's possible. You know what they say, opposites attractin' and all…"

"But…"

"Before you say anything, darlin' – you have to remember him and Louiser. Now there as opposites attractin'!"

"That's true. Well, perhaps we should be there for a gentle push – because with these two – they are going to need it."

She reached out her hand and Bert warmly shook it. "You can count on me!"

(The next day, in the heart of the village of Port Issac we see the newest temporary resident making her way down the street):

Sarah Matthews, thought still enduring a hacking cough was actually enjoying her time in this lovely, little town. Everywhere she looked there were spectacular views. The salt sea air tickled her nose.

She found a tiny bakery on the edge of town that smelled like heaven outside and stopped in to buy some fresh muffins.

As she stepped outside, she passed a short-statured, glib looking man in a policeman's uniform.

"Hi there!" She chirped, trying to sound polite.

The constable stood stock still and tried to look intimidating.

"Good day, and you are?"

She trembled a bit as she replied. "Sarah – um – Matthews."

"You don't sound like you're from these parts," he continued to interrogate her.

"No, I'm visiting from Canada actually."

"City and province please!"

She looked up at him as if he were nuts.

"Honestly, I'm not trying to enter the country illegally or anything…"

The tight-lipped officer put up his hand. "I'll be the judge of that."

"OK, I'm from North Vancouver, BC and I…"

As the words left her mouth, it was followed up by a racking cough.

But, this time proved to be different as suddenly she could feel her throat closing up on her and she was gasping for breath. It felt as if she was drowning on dry land. Then, she knew she was about to black out as she grasped the constable's arm.

"What's happenin'? Oh my God – it's OK, I'll call the doc! Try to relax, focus, breathe. Yes, yes – lie down – that's a good ideaer!"

Sarah didn't have a choice as she crumpled at his feet on the pavement in the middle of the square.

The officer immediately got on his cell phone. "Pauline! PC Penhale here – emergency, woman collapsed, age roughly 40, middle of the road. Can't breathe – no vitals! Need the doc ASAP!"

(Ten minutes later):

Dr. Ellingham arrived on foot nearly out of breath himself with Pauline following him behind carrying his big medical kit as he himself had what looked like an oxygen tank tucked under his arm.

He immediately crouched down beside Sarah and leaned in to rest his cheek against her breast.

"She's still breathing, but just barely – Pauline, give the vial of amyl nitrate in the top left pocket of the bag and a clamp for the oxygen tank!"

She nodded and reached in his case for the vial in question and instruments and handed it to him.

"Is she going to be OK?" Penhale asked, looking slightly blanched.

"She just needs the oxygen right now and then we'll have to take her up to the clinic. Penhale, how long were you chatting with Ms. Matthews?"

"Umm – not more than a few minutes."

"You may have been exposed. I suspect a severe case of chronic pneumonia – I want you to return to the station and quarantine yourself for twenty four hours, I'll come by to check on you later. You're not to leave, understood?"

The officer looked as if he'd been handed a death sentence. "Oh – my – God…"

"Penhale! Do as you're told!" Barked the doc.

"Right," he whispered, looking a bit stunned before running for his vehicle at the opposite end of the street.

Martin held the oxygen mask over Sarah's face and twisted the valve at the top.

"Pneumonia?" Pauline lamented. "I wonder where she picked it up? Is she going to die?"

"No, Pauline – clamp please!" Martin said, fully in command.

This was when he was most impressive, he seemed to know precisely what to do in any emergency.

Pauline just watched him quietly as Sarah showed signs of response at last.

"Oh thank God!" Pauline exclaimed as Sarah sputtered and coughed, her eyes opening.

She looked a bit disoriented as she stared up at the doctor looming over her.

He reached underneath her torso and lifted her up, so that he cradled her a bit in his arms.

"We need to get her to stand. Ms. Matthews you collapsed but I need to examine you, do you think you can get up?" Martin whispered to her.

She barely nodded and did her best to struggle to her shaking feet. He helped her and Pauline ran to the other side to help support Sarah as well.

Carefully they led her up the hill to the stone cottage at the top. It was arduous, but eventually they took her inside.

(Later that afternoon, Sarah emerged from the doctor's office looking considerably better if still a bit shaken):

She came up to the window seat in front of Pauline's desk.

"Mind if I sit down for a bit?" She asked her.

"No, that's fine – how ya' doing'?" Pauline replied.

"Been better, got the scare of my life back there. I'm lucky you have such a good doctor in town."

Pauline smiled proudly. "Yeah, our doc's the best! Would you like something to drink?"  
"Oh no, I'm fine, thanks," she replied, finally sitting down. "He must really rely on you too – are you a nurse as well as a receptionist?"

"Phlebotomist," Pauline corrected. "And, I'm the practice manager."

"Oh, that's great, so I was right – you are important."

Pauline smiled at her.

"The doctor asked me to submit to some lab tests – it must have been something I picked up on the plane. He prescribed something stronger. I just hope I can get an extension on my plane tickets – I think I'm going to be here for awhile."

"Say – tell you what – I'm going by the pharmacy later, why don't you go with me to see Mrs. Tishell and then we can get something over at Bert's?"

Sarah smiled back. "Oh yeah, Large's Restaurant, right? Sure – that would be fine. When do you get off here?"

Pauline hesitated for a moment, she'd forgotten her standing appointment with the doc for tea time. Perhaps he'd be alright without her for one night.

"4:30. Why don't you go get some rest and cleaned up. Where are you staying?"

"The Crow's Nest."

"Oh yeah, that's perfect – I'll meet you there at 5:00."

"You've got it – thanks Pauline," Sarah said, lifting her purse up over one shoulder.

"Call me Paul, please, everyone does – well, except for the doc."

Sarah smiled. "Paul then, see you later!"

She waved at her as she left. Something told her that she needed someone to talk to – or at least someone who would respond in kind.

Contemplating the doc's door quickly for a moment, she went back to work.

(That evening around 4:30, Pauline was packing it in for the night and switched off the computer at her desk):

She saw the doc emerge from his office.

All he did was point to the kitchen and say. "Pauline."

It was as if it was an expected ritual of her now.

"Sorry, doc – I can't. I'm meeting up with Sarah. We're picking up her meds and going to Bert's for supper."

"Ah yes, let's just give everyone a severe case of pneumonia! Marvelous idea!" He grumbled and walked off to the kitchen without looking at her.

She sighed and lowered her head.

Following him into the kitchen, she saw him puttering around with a coffee machine, his back to her.

"She'll be fine, doc. Why don't you come along and make sure?" She asked, quietly.

But, he failed to acknowledge her.

"I could cancel, ask her to stay put and stay here?"

"Don't bother," he snarled finally.

"Doc, come with us!" She begged and walked up to him.

He turned to her, his face scowling. "I'm not a charity case!"

"I never said you were!"

He went back to his coffee making.

"I'll be in around 8:30 tomorrow, OK?" She replied, feeling defeated. "See you then."

He just put the coffee filter he was holding into the machine and switched it on.

She was going to leave, but stopped herself. Going over to him, she reached out and touched his hand with hers, stroking it slightly.

"Tomorrow, I promise," she whispered as he looked down at her in surprise.

As she drew her hand away from him, he touched it in return briefly with his fingertips.

She smiled, softly.

Nodding, he let her go.

"Goodnight," he whispered.

"Night."

(The next day, it was business as usual at the practice. Bert was early this morning, sitting in his usual spot by the window seat where he could observe everything around him, waiting for his appointment):

He had to admit, today he was here for motives not entirely medical. He was Joan's spy to see how things were between Martin and Pauline.

What he saw surprised even him.

It was almost like a carefully orchestrated dance.

First Martin entered the front waiting room, seemingly looking for something. Before he even had to ask, Pauline without looking up handed him a pen.

She then held out her own hand, and without saying a thing – he gave her a lab requistion.

The phone rang, she answered it and gave it over to the doc who came around behind her to take it from her. He took some mail from the corner of her desk and tossed it in her wastebasket. Pauline dug it out, took two envelopes out she deemed important and gave them back to him.

"Pauline, about the…" the doctor said, covering the receiver with his hand.

"McInnish's results came in this afternoon, it's on your desk," she finished.

"Good, do you want me to log you in?"

"Yes, please, I'll go make some copies of your report after."

"Fine."

The cord from the phone momentarily tangled around Pauline's shoulders as she tried to stand.

Martin took her hand while still in full conversation on the phone and twirled the cord around her as if he was dancing with Pauline. She giggled a bit once she was freed and fell back into her chair.

The doctor logged her into the computer, grabbed the letters and the files, then marched across the room.

"Next!" He called out as a woman near his door followed him inside.

Bert stared open-mouthed at Pauline.

"Somethin' wrong?" She asked.

He just laughed. "No, my darlin' – everything is peachey!"

It was like he witnessed something he'd never see again, it was incredible.

(Bert returned later that day with a full report to Joan at her farm):

"Joanie, it was like poetry in motion – seamless. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't witnessed it with my own two eyes!"

"Really?" She said as she shelled a few hard-boiled eggs. "So they seem to be getting along?"

"He even twirled her!"

"He what?"

She looked at him in confusion.

"Yeah, like this!"

Bert came up to Joan and took the eggs in her hand, dropping them in the sink. He grabbed for her hand and spun her around.

Suddenly, Joan grabbed for her back.

"Bert! What on earth?"

"Sorry, sorry, just showin' you is all. Are you alright?"

"I'll live," Joan groaned and sat down. "He did that with Pauline?"

"I'm tellin' you, my girl – it looks like love!"

"Now I think you're overreacting!" She snapped. "Might I remind you we are talking about Marty here!"

"Want me to do that for you?" Bert asked, his attention diverted. He walked over to her sink.

"My what?"

"Your eggs."

"No, I can do it."

She agonized a bit as she tried to stand but he put his hands on her shoulders and sat her back down.

"That's alright, you just relax. I can take care of this."

"Very well – thank you, Bert."

"You know, you're as stubborn as your nephew sometimes."

She shot him a dirty look. "What's that crack for?"

"Well, it's not for your eggs!" Bert laughed.

But, he could see Joan's scowl and knew she wasn't sharing his humor.

"I tell you what, my love – let me make you supper. I can try some of my newest recipes on you from my bistro. Free of charge."

Joan grimaced. "Why do I have to be your guinea pig?"

"Because you can't move?"

She rolled her eyes and turned quiet.

"I'll take that as a yes then, shall I?"

He went about making a meal for her, somehow it felt rather nicely domestic. But, he didn't say anything, he just smiled to himself.

(A few days later at the surgery):

The doc got an urgent call from old Mrs. Tupper on the east side of Portwenn that she was experiencing heart palpitations. He gave Pauline express instructions to cancel all of his afternoon appointments as he ran for his car outside.

As Pauline sat for a few moments after his departure – it began to sink in – she had the office to herself.

It was time to get to work finding out more about what made him tick.

Going to his empty office, she looked around and tried to figure out what to explore first.

Walking over to his desk, she sat down in his low-back, black chair that still felt as if molded to his curves, she nestled herself in for a bit – it felt rather nice.

Then, she opened a few drawers in his desk to discover what was inside. Most of it was decidedly boring. Medical notebooks and guides, a bill for repairs to his Lexus, notes to himself to check up on Joan and so forth.

It was a rather stern-looking, metallic desk and it offered few secrets. So instead she tried a different tact – she examined what she could on top of it.

The first thing that caught her eye was an ornately-carved, miniature wooden chest.

Moving aside his desk lamp a bit, she unlatched the front of it and began to examine it's contents. They appeared to be cogs, sprockets and what seemed like parts of a broken clock, as well as a tiny set of pliers. Perhaps this was the tinkering that Joan had told her he liked to do for a hobby. It dawned on her that when she first started at the clinic there was this antique clock that seemed to have vanished on its own. She thought he'd taken it as trash and tossed it – but, now she knew the truth.

Next, she noticed a little, mahogany box on the far corner of his desk, just beyond some tongue depressors. Lifting the cover, she peered inside. It turned out to be even more confusing than the last. It contained a gray silk tie, withered boutinerrie, and…an engagement ring.

Covering her lips with her hand, she gasped – his wedding to Louisa!

Picking up the ring in curosity, she tried it on her ring finger – it fit perfectly. As if it was made for her. It looked quite old with a small arrangement of diamonds across the band. She spun it a bit and felt a strange little tingle in her stomach before she put it back in it's resting place. He was sentimental keeping these.

She must have meant a great deal to him. For a moment she had a feeling of resentment towards Louisa for leaving him like she did, but then she dismissed it.

Then, turning in her chair, she directed her attention to the dresser behind her. Trying to dig into the drawers proved impossible – then, she recalled that these were no doubt patient files, so she left it alone. But, there was yet another fancy, wooden cabinet on top that caught her eye. She had to admit – he had a fine eye for expensive woodwork.

Standing up, she went over to it. Before checking its contents, she looked a little closer at the cabinet itself. Glancing at the back of it she found it was made in Mongolia at the turn of the century.

"Wow!" She breathed. "This had to have set the doc back quite a bit. Must have gotten it in his pre-GP days."

Opening it up, it made a pleasant creak as she peered inside.

It was full of pictures, documents and other stuff apparently when he was a surgeon in London.

There were more pictures of the younger doctor amidst ones more recent with colleagues looking stone-faced and stiff. Including a few of him with that horrid woman Dr. Edith Montgomery.

Pauline always thought of her as a stick with a fluff of bottle red hair on top.

She scowled at her picture as she looked at it. He'd been engaged to her for awhile – another failed relationship.

"Poor doc!" She groaned.

She'd remembered meeting Edith and how she'd all but dismissed her like an ant under her foot.

"Good riddance!" She said disdainfully and threw the picture aside.

Most of the remainder of the contents were accolades of his achievements in his field as a neurosurgeon at Imperial College. It was really quite impressive.

She stopped and considered it for awhile. Had he never developed a stress-related aversion to blood, they never would have met.

If he ever overcame it –

No, he almost left before, that wouldn't happen again!

Or would it?

The only reason he stayed here was perhaps Louisa and she was now gone.

Pauline fell back in his chair and lowered her eyes to her lap.

What would keep him here? What would keep him from leaving all over again?

And more importantly – why was this bothering her so much?

Because she'd be out of work, that's why.

But she'd bounce back.

The twitchy feeling in the pit of her stomach returned, it made her realize something – it was more than that.

– And it scared her!

Uncomfortable at the thoughts she was starting to entertain, she quickly jumped to her feet and made sure each of his belongings were meticulously and carefully returned to their resting place. Then she walked back to her own desk.

And, not a moment too soon as the doc himself walked back in through the front door.

She said nothing to him as he walked up to her desk.

"Can you call Dr. Finlay at Imperial for me," he said, looking worn out as he gathered his paperwork under his arm.

She glanced up at him, her eyes were tender as she tried hard to disguise how she was feeling.

"Pauline, did you hear me?" He said, trying to comprehend if she even heard him. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," she whispered and looked away.

He stared at her for a moment, a slight sensation of concern for her crossing his mind before he shook it.

"Fine, call the doctor then!" He growled, but not as loud as when he entered. "Honestly! I'll be in my office."

She watched him go, quietly and finally came to her senses, placing a call to the hospital.

As Dr. Ellingham came into his office, he went to his medical cabinets on the far left side of the room and washed his hands. Glancing around, his observant eye immediately caught something out of place.

The door to his little cabinet where he stored his clock parts was half open.

Knitting his brow in confusion, he walked over to it and then he noticed other items had been seemingly moved on his desk. Opening up his box on the corner, sure enough his ring to Louisa was in a different spot.

Angrily, he glared across the room where the door was still open to see Pauline on the phone, her back to him, immersed in conversation.

Again she had invaded his privacy, how dare…

He stopped himself suddenly – hadn't he done the exact same thing to her not more than a few weeks ago? How could he get angry at her for the same crime?

No – she had no right…

Then he considered it a little more carefully from the outside looking in – why was she suddenly so curious in him? Could it be that his Aunt Joan's first assumptions had been right?

Glancing up at her again, he wasn't sure what to do anymore.

He felt violated and vulnerable at the same time. He had to admit even to himself that he was curious in her as well. She was starting to stir feelings in him he thought he'd buried safely when Louisa had left him a year and a half ago.

He had to resolve this – grabbing his box in the corner, he tucked it safely in his hand and strode to the front room to confront her.

"Pauline!" He snarled, looking down at her at her desk.

She held up a finger, to quiet him as she was talking to his colleague on the phone.

"Yes, yes – thank you. I understand, I will tell him – that's funny! You too, goodbye doctor!" She said, lost in her own world.

No doubt Finlay was flirting with her. He was always a bit of a playboy.

She started laughing out loud and held her hand to her chest to steady herself.

"Pauline!' Repeated Martin a little louder, he could feel a thin thread of jealousy rise in him. But, he silenced it.

She looked up at him as she hung up the phone.

"Yes?" She hissed, seemingingly as if he were interrupting her.

That's when she saw the box in his hand and she turned humble.

He started to raise it up in his hand, but went quiet when he saw her expression.

He didn't know why – it never bothered him before when she'd obviously done something wrong. But, this time was different. He just was unable to speak.

Her eyes were soft and beseeching him as they looked up into his and he trembled a bit.

"Ahh…nevermind…" he muttered and turned to go back into his office. "I think I'm going to call it a day, lock up when you leave."

She watched him go and wondered why he didn't state what obviously was on his mind, he had the evidence – and yet, he didn't challenge her on it. What had just happened?

She started to grab her purse when he came through the lobby and without even noticing her, he marched up the stairs to his rooms above.

No tea tonight.

She sat there numb for a moment and then recalled – she had made a promise to him.

Martin was rather quiet as he went about getting ready to settle in with a good book and forget things for awhile.

Turning on his lamp near his bed, he sighed a bit.

The patients were gone, his work was done, and he still was trying to mull over things with Pauline in his mind.

Loosening his tie, he threw it down on the edge of his dresser as he undid the first few buttons of his shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror briefly and began to take off his jacket when there was a knock on his door.

It was almost like a whisper of a touch – he nearly didn't hear it.

Startled he looked up and wondered who would have the nerve to come up to his rooms?

"Auntie Joan?" He asked, hesitantly.

"No, it's me," came back a much younger, familiar female voice – it was Pauline! "Can I come in?"

"No!" Answered Martin soundly.

"Come on, doc – I brought us some tea and biscuits. A promise is a promise."

He couldn't believe it, she had remembered.

Going to the door, he opened it only a crack but wouldn't let her in. "Why are you still here? Go home, Pauline, it's late."

She held up her cups. "Just for a little bit?"

Finally, despite his own objections, he opened the door to let her in with a sweep of his hand.

He was letting her in – she looked surprised as she finally grinned and came inside.

So this is what his bedroom looked like! She glanced around, it was tiny with a large, mahogany-styled bed up against one wall and few other things except a dresser and a simple end table. He sure had a fetish for mahogany!

Laughing to herself, Martin didn't quite get the joke.

"Something funny?"

"No, sorry. And, about earlier this afternoon – yes, I did look through your desk and – I'm sorry for that too."

He just nodded and said nothing.

She tried hard to grin, she knew that was probably all she was going to get.

He sat down on his bed like second nature as she handed him his cup and biscuit on a plate and then proceeded to sit next to him, when he stopped her.

"What do you think you're doing?" He barked.

"Joining you."

"Excuse me?" He exclaimed and recoiled from her. He immediately stood up.

"Oh Gawd, relax – get your mind out of the gutter – I'm not going to rape you or anything. What I meant was to sit next to you and have my tea. Go on – sit back down!"

She patted the bed next to her. "Sit! Sit!"

He grimaced and muttered something under breath as he resumed his seat.

"What was that?" She said, not quite hearing him.

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought!" She muttered, smugly.

He shot her a look and took a hard sip of his tea, it tasted like that blasted herbal tea that she favored. He had to admit, though begrudgingly, it wasn't half bad.

Then she shifted a bit, lifting her skirts and he watched her slightly appalled. She flashed her upper thigh for a moment when she raised both her calf leather ankle boots up and tucked them under her as she sat Indian style on the bed.

"Comfy?" He snarled.

She gazed over at him, her cherry-colored cheeks more obvious in the lamp light as she smiled at him.

"Yes, very, thank you. Holy – this is a nice bed, so posh! How much did this cost you?"

"I don't remember!" He replied, looking sour faced as he bit hard into the biscuit on his plate. "And take off your boots, I don't need you make indentations in my coverlet!"

She rolled her eyes and reached under her skirt, he looked away in embarrassment for a moment when finally she dropped one after another on the floor next to the bed.

"You're such a snob!"

"Well pardon me, but you are in my room on my bed."

"There's something you probably never thought you'd hear yourself sayin', eh doc?"

He said nothing to her, but as he raised his cup to his lips again, his hand began to tremble uncontrollably. He quickly lowered it and tried to disguise what had just happened.

But, it was too late. Pauline just looked at him, her eyes twinkling a bit.

"Is that me that makes you nervous?" She whispered.

"Nonsense!" He grumbled and then sat up. "You know, I think this is highly inappropriate, I insist you leave immediately!"

She didn't hear him, instead she reached over and put her hand on his arm. He looked down at her, not sure what she was doing when he felt her rub his sleeve a little with her fingertips. There was a shot of electricity that went up just from that brief touch that his hand started to shake even more.

"There's nothing inappropriate happenin' here, doc. It's just you and me. You need to relax. I have an idea of something that will help settle your nerves."

Suddenly, she started to get up on her knees next to him, resting her weight on him a bit as she placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

"Pauline, what do you think you're doing – Pauline!"

She stopped and looked at him. "Listen to me, when are you goin' to start trusting me? And what is it with you and sex – is that all you ever think of? Must be from looking at that bisexual sex site."

She started giggling into his back as she buried her face in his shoulder.

He glanced over it at her, his face crossed. "That was for your – I mean, a patient!"

He knew she wasn't quite ready for that trauma of finding out about her uncle's second life, so he kept his tongue.

"Besides – not all physical touch has to be sexual, sometimes it can be gentle and calmin' – I want to give you a massage."

"No, no – absolutely not!"

"Why? I'm a trained masseuse!" She objected, trying to get him to stay still as she could feel he was about to get up again. "Besides, you have no tie and your shirt is already undone. Here, let me rub your shoulders."

She proceeded to place her fingers around his neck and collarbone, her warm touch on his bare skin sent a shockwave up to his brain and he shoved her off. Trying to get up, she nearly had to tackle him in a choke hold to get him from running off on her again, instead he fell back on the bed slightly.

"Have you lost what sense God gave you – what are you doing?" He shouted.

She tried to get him to sit up but instead she nearly had to pin him to the bed underneath her, she looked as if she was ready to climb on top of him.

"I'm trying to keep you from leaving, let me do this, doc – I have magic fingers."

He looked up at her, his face red with embarrassment. "Will you get off of me if I do?"

"Maybe not, this is kind of nice like this, you all submissive and stuff and me on top!"

He finally pushed her off of him and sat up.

"OK, OK, I'm sorry – I'll behave. Don't go – just sit and let me do my thing, alright?"

"Fine!" He snarled.

He sat there like a wet blanket, though her playfulness hadn't won any brownie points with him, that much was clear.

"Be sure to find the cranial nerve but don't apply too much pressure to it as it may lead to severe neurological damage. The brachial plexus is responsible for cutaneous and muscular innervation of the entire upper limb, with two exceptions: the trapezius muscle innervated by the spinal accessory nerve…"

She tapped his shoulder and leaned in close to his ear. "I got it, I have done this before, you know. Thanks for the lesson, but like I said – trust me."

He tensed up a bit as she touched him again. She got up behind him a bit more so that her chest was pressed into his neck a little and then she tried to lift his jacket a bit from his shoulders.

He wanted to object, but she said "Shhh…just take it off please, I need to get at your neck and shoulders."

Without any further complaint, he did what she told him. She was pleasantly surprised he was being so compliant now. She guessed that the threat of female dominance in bed was enough to cool his heels a bit. She smiled to herself.

Removing his jacket, he meticulously folded it over the end of his bed, making sure there wasn't a crease.

"Good, now rest back against me and close your eyes."

He sighed a bit and rolled his shoulders, letting the tension go and shut his eyes.

She pulled back the collar on his shirt and then dipped her fingertips underneath, he jumped a bit at her touch before she quietly whispered to relax in his ear again. Finally, he settled back a bit so his head was resting against her shoulder.

Softly, she began to explore his collarbone and up along his sturdy neck. Gradually her touch became more firm as she first ran circles with her fingertips and then kneaded the muscles with her hands. His skin was incredibly soft and felt nice under her fingers, she mused. He couldn't help himself as a tiny moan of the frustration leaving him escaped his lips.

She smiled down at him, he looked so peaceful like that – it was nice to see a brief moment of contentment cross his face.

With steadiness of hand, she molded his muscles like clay. For several minutes, she continued her ministrations, actually going down his strong upper arms under the shirt, pushing aside his collar even more as she leaned forward against him.

Suddenly, as she was cupping his jawline with her hands after running them firmly up his neck, she could hear him snoring.

He was asleep, resting in her arms now, his cheek nestled up against her breast.

She couldn't help it, she felt that little tickle in her stomach and knew what it now was having him like this, surrendering to her in a way, comforting and tender.

Looking over her shoulder without moving him, she leaned back to grab some of his pillows and placed it behind her back as she nestled into them, supporting his weight against her. She moved her legs apart so that he was resting between and she put her arms around his shoulders, careful to cradle his head in her hands.

For a long time, she just sat there, listening simply to the sound of his breathing and she knew she was lost – she was in love, there was no escaping it – how had this happened? Her and the doc…And, how could this happen with a man such as Martin Ellingham?

The night seemed to hold them in its embrace as the flicker of the nearby lamp caused a peaceful glow to the room. This was so nice, she just wanted to stay like this all night.

Looking down at him, she could observe his face, his ginger eyebrows looked so calm and there was such a little boy quality to his expression. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his closely-cropped hair, blonde glistening against her knuckles – it felt like pure silk to the touch.

"Pauline," he whispered softly in his sleep, and then gradually a sweet little grin of happiness came to his otherwise usually stern face.

She nearly cried, she gave a little chuckle.

Before she realized what she was doing, she was leaning in to kiss his forehead as he moved to nestle his cheek against the spot where the curve of her naked breast was discretely covered by her ruffled blouse. She then kissed his temple, his eyes and then she hesitated just directly above his full lips.

Her heart was beating faster as she softly leaned closer and covered his lips with hers. They felt so gentle and yielding as he murmured in his sleep and actually returned the kiss before she gradually drew away.

It was a surprise then that she as she gently moved out from under him at last feeling her legs going to sleep, that he didn't stir. She struggled and she moved him up the bed a bit and placed his pillows under his head.

She covered him with his blankets and was about to crawl away when he rolled over and put his arm around her waist, pulling her back against him. He groaned a bit in frustration and then seemed to smile to find her once more, still fast asleep the whole time.

Pauline realized she was going no where for the night.

Reaching up, she managed to turn off the light. Shifting around against him, she threw the blanket over the both of them and laid her head upon his rising chest and closed her eyes as she put her arm around his stomach – and soon, she too, was fast asleep as she felt his arm pull her closer.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning as the sun was just starting to peek in through Martin's bedroom window, casting it's warming rays over the two figures sleeping nearby, nestled in close to one another – it was that sensation that caused him to stir from his sound sleep.

His eyes searched about the room a bit to finally focus on his surroundings. It was then he realized he wasn't alone.

Looking down, he saw Pauline curled up against him like a cat, her loosened copper curls framing her face. One hand had actually found it's way under a few buttons on his shirt so that he could feel her fingers against his skin, her cheek resting on his chest.

Jumping up a bit in shock, he noticed she had on the same clothes from the night before – so at least they hadn't –

As he rustled around a bit, it failed to rouse her as she continued to sleep.

His mind panicked for only an instance, when a lovely warmth settled into his bones as she sighed a bit in her sleep and held him closer.

He realized how nice it was, to be able to hold a woman in his arms like this again – as he leaned over, he could slightly smell the aroma of magnolias in her hair.

Relaxing, he laid back a bit, careful not to move too much and disturb her. Gradually reaching up, he grew brave and touched her bare shoulder as he brought her closer – her tawny skin felt like satin against his hand – it was bliss. He sighed himself as he played with a lock of her soft hair.

He was filled with immediate peace and then it was impossible to deny – he was falling in love with her.

"Oh God!" He lamented, groaning somewhat.

It was the sound of his voice near her ear that gradually woke her.

She buried her face slightly into his neck and opened her eyes so that she was looking up at him lying underneath her. His calming expression changed to one of distrust, but it didn't phase her.

"Goodmorning," she purred. "Did you sleep OK?"

"Why are you here?" He demanded.

She seemed startled at his tone. "Wha…?"

"Here – in my bed! Why are you still in it?"

She couldn't believe what he was saying.

"You fell asleep while I was givin' you a massage!" She argued.

"Which I can quite aptly do on my own!" He snarled in return, motioning to sit up as he shrugged her off of him. "The…sleeping part, that is – not the massage…"

"Look, you fell asleep in my arms, I made sure you were lyin' down so you could get some sleep and then tried to get up – but you pulled me back down with you, so I stayed."

"Nonsense!" he muttered. "I should have never let you come in my room to begin with! It was a bad decision on my part!"

She finally got tired of him trying to shove her to move that she sat up and got out of bed, looking very indignant.

"You know what your problem is?"

"I'm sure you're about to tell me!" He replied.

"Damn straight I am – you need to let a woman come up here more often – because you need a really, good fu…!"

"Pauline!" He shouted, quickly intercepting what he knew she was about to state. His face turned red. "I think you should leave!"

"Fine!" She hissed and tried to put herself together, straightening her hair as best she could, but then she stopped short of leaving completely. "No! You know what, I'm not leaving!"

"This is my room – you have no say in the matter! Beside of which, it's hardly the point – I may have patients awaiting me downstairs, this conversation is over!"

"What was so wrong with me staying here last night?"  
"Do I need to really go into the ramifications of what people will think of our current situation when they find out I have slept with my receptionist?"

"Practice manager!" She corrected and then added. "You make it sound filthy – like I was some cheap one night stand!"

"There was no stand, we didn't…well, we didn't…" he started to grumble, unable to voice even the word 'sex' in front of her.

She began to pace in front of him as he looked up at her rather bitterly.

"You can't even say it can you?" She taunted. "The word is sex – we didn't have sex. Say it!"

He glared up hard at her. "Sex! There are you happy? And, might I add – of which we will never now or ever have!"

"Don't flatter yourself!" She snarled. "It's not like I'm considering it anymore anyhow."

He looked at her startled at her half confession, she seemed to almost trip over her own feet for a moment – realizing what she'd just said.

"I mean…not like I've ever thought about it…with you…" she mumbled, now it was her face that was turning red. "Forget it! I shouldn't have even kissed you, what a big, fat waste of my time!"

Humiliated slightly, and still tripping over her feet, she ran for his door and threw it open. He quickly jumped to his feet and followed her out into the hall. Her last words rang in his ears as he was still trying to grasp what she just said.

Little did they know that his Aunt Joan had come in downstairs, hoping to get there early to bring Martin some breakfast when she overheard voices above her. In curiosity, she approached his stairs when she saw who it was appearing at the top.

"Pauline! Pauline!" He shouted and tried to reach for her arm. Finally catching up to her, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her back to him a bit.

"What?" She shouted as she looked at him.

"What do you mean by 'you shouldn't have kissed me?'" He demanded to know.

Joan down below overheard and covered her mouth in surprise.

"Nothing, I was just trying to be sarcastic…" she mumbled.

"I don't believe you!"

She glared up at him, hard and could just make out his expression in the darkened entrance to his rooms.

"I don't care what you believe anymore, I'm outta here!"

"You were just taking advantage of me and the situation!" He shouted, still not relinquishing his hold on her. His face was gnarled and angry.

"I just felt like doing it – so sue me!"

"Why?" He demanded.

"What do you mean 'why'? I don't know why!"

He came in close to her face and very clearly said "You're just trying to make a fool out of me!"

Joan rolled her eyes below.

"Oh Marty, wake up!" She said to herself.

"That's right, it's always about you!" Pauline said. "Never about me or what I feel, is it – oh no!"

"What do you feel?" He continued, it was like he was a man possessed, his hold on her arm became a bit more firm as he brought her nearly up against him. She didn't know why he was growing so insistent all of a sudden. As she looked up at him towering over her, she could feel her pulse quicken.

"Nothing," she said, coolly. "Now let me go, I have work to do – as you so often remind me. After all, it's all you do – isn't it?"

"Fine!" He snarled and finally let her go. "But next time you plan to molest me in my room while I'm asleep, let me know first!"

His comment was meant to be a jab at her but as he was walking down the stairs, he was met by the startled and rather disgusted expression of his…

"Auntie Joan!" He exclaimed, looking embarrassed at being discovered.

Pauline ran into Martin as she was following him at his heels and gasped in surprise at Joan watching them from below. This was the last thing she needed!

"Mrs. Norton – how long have you been standin' there?" She asked, biting her lip. She pushed her way past Dr. Ellingham who was nearly like a wall as he stood in her path.

She tried to look as if the whole scene above never happened as she came up to the elder woman.

"Can I get you some tea? Let's see if you're our first appointment today, shall we!"

Martin walked to Pauline as she tried to skirt away from him and whispered in her ear. "This isn't over yet! We're going to talk about this later!"

"Oh goodie!" She said to herself. "Now I can't get him to stop talking to me!"

He glanced up at her, he had overheard her words. "What?"  
"Nothing," she grumbled again.

"That's a great idea!" Joan said, and went towards the front door of the surgery. "Why don't you two get comfortable, chat for awhile – I'll make sure you both have your privacy!"

"Auntie Joan, what are you up…?" Martin called as he watched her go, his suspicions at high alert.

"Uh uh – I can handle things outside!" She chided and ran for the door.

He tried to intercept her, but she proved too quick for him as she closed it behind her and barred it with her body as he tried to open it from the other side.

"You're being childish!" He shouted through it.

Pauline just glanced up, barely blinking an eye as she said "And ignoring the fact we have a back door. I can see how you're related now!"

Martin shot her a dirty look. "Oh, go back to work!"

"I don't start until 8:30 and until then – I think that talking sounds like a great idea!" She answered and then brought her chair across the room so that she sat directly in the center of it, looking up at him. "Why don't you start?"

"Shut up!' He hissed and walked across the room to his office. Before slamming the door, he added. "And, this still isn't over!"

"Run away!" She shouted. "Like you always do!"

He reopened the door and came back into the room, waving his finger at her. "And furthermore…"

"Yes?" She replied, totally calm and passive as she sat with her hands in her lap, looking up at him expectantly.

"Nevermind!" He growled and went back to his office, once again slamming the door.

"Thought as much!" She replied and went back to her own. "You can come in now, Mrs. Norton!"

(Later on that afternoon, Bert stopped in to bring Pauline her lunch and chat for a bit. The doctor was running behind, and patients were starting to grow restless):

"Must be Mrs. Philean, she always was a bit long-winded, God love 'er!" Bert commented as he leaned over desk to chat.

Pauline smirked to herself, that was like the pot calling the kettle black – but in this instance, no doubt he was right.

Adjusting her clothes, she still hated the fact she had to wear that same outfit she ended up sleeping in the previous night.

Glancing up at the doctor's door – she thought 'Damn him!'

Her head raised a measure in it's dawning and slow deliberation. There was a mischievous glimmer in her light sapphire eyes as she glanced up at Bert.

"You know what we need, Bert – atmosphere!"

"Are you daffy, girl, what atmosphere? Here? In the puke green waiting room of delights?" He said, shaking his head. "Are you gonna sing for us?"

"Better! Have you heard of Lilly Allen?"

"Oh yeah, that saucy lil' Brit gal that sings rock right?"

"Want to hear some of her stuff? I think I have somethin' on my Pod. Hold on."

She fished out her tiny, ivory device and dug around in her desk for her docking station.

"This ought to cheer up this place!" She said, disappearing under her desk for a moment to plug it in. She knew the doctor never allowed her to play this out loud – but that was the point at the moment.

Finding the song, she turned it on and cranked up the sound.

The music poured out and was amazingly loud for such a small instrument. At first there was this sort of Mexican mariachi beat and then Lilly herself began to sing – it was the song 'LDN' – which was short for London. It always tickled Pauline, she knew the doc was from there, now she was going to rub his face in it.

Inside the doctor's office.

Dr. Ellingham was sitting at his desk talking to the frantic woman across from him, as she fretted that her husband had given her genital herpes and started speculating that no doubt he was sleeping with a prostitute. He rolled his eyes as she ranted on and on about men when the sound coming from the lobby interrupted him.

It sounded like some sort of teenage rave as he could make out laughter and chat along with the music.

"What in God's name?" He shouted, startling the patient across from him.

"Doctor, do you think he's being unfaithful? Should I confront him?" Mrs. Philean yelled, trying to talk over him.

Her GP wasn't even noticing her anymore, instead he was glaring hard at the door behind her.

"Doc?" She said, raising her voice even more. "Very well! I'm leaving then!"

"Yes! I think confronting someone sounds like an excellent idea!" He snarled and got to his feet. Walking across the room and opening the door to his office – he watched as his receptionist and Bert were arm in arm twirling each other around the middle of the room as they were dancing to the beat. A few people were clapping and cheering in time.

But, they quickly settled down as they saw the doctor's presence in his entrance way, looking like he was about to explode. Except for Bert and Pauline, who continued to dance around as the music went on.

Pauline did actually notice him, but just gave him a smug smile and carried on like nothing was wrong.

Mrs. Philean who had felt insulted, shoved her way past Martin and walked for the front door.

That was all the incentive he needed. Crossing the room, he went directly for her desk and searched for the source of the noise. Finding it at last, he ripped the iPod right out from the dock and placed it in his pocket.

Pauline turned to him and looked at him stunned.

"Hey! That's mine!" She shouted.

"Not any more it's not, it's staying with me for the remainder of the day! This is a surgery, not a discotheque!"

She tried to grab for it, but he wouldn't let her and walked indignantly back towards his office without looking at her.

"Next!" He shouted.

Pauline was red faced as she turned to Bert.

"Now, my darling – you need to breathe, OK – calm down!" He said, trying to sound fatherly, but it was falling on deaf ears.

"He has no right to take my stuff!"

"In all rights, my dear – you did start it!" Bert said, he hated to admit it – but the doc did react like he expected.

"Oh sure! Take his side – that's so typical, you men all stick together, don't ya?" She snarled and got up without another word and strode with a determined gait towards the doctor's office and threw open the door.

It was safe to say that her intrusion was not appreciated.

His new patient looked startled as the receptionist was giving the same heated and intense stare that the doc had done only moments earlier.

"I knew I should have rescheduled this for next week!" He said meekly and wished he could crawl away along the floor, instead he tried to stand up.

"Sit down!" Martin shouted and glared up at Pauline. "I'm with a patient! Leave immediately and close the door behind you!"

But, Pauline would not be deterred.

"So last night didn't mean anything?" She cried, her voice breaking a bit as her breathing started to quicken.

His pale gray eyes grew big as a slight panic overcame the doctor, his face started to drain of color as even Mr. Tobin looked surprised - he couldn't believe she wanted to discuss this with a room full of nosy patients right behind her back.

"Pauline!" He said, enunciating her name and his voice becoming a menacing whisper. "We'll discuss this – later!"

"No!" She hissed. "I want to talk about this right now!"

Bert was watching the scene playing out in shock, he had no idea that things had gotten to this point already – the doc moved much faster than he expected.

"You're embarrassing me!" Martin hissed.

She said nothing but just stood there, stoically.

"Fine!" He finally spit out. "Mr. Tobin, we'll have to do this another time. Take your regular medications, if you feel any other symptoms or your existing symptoms change – call me immediately."

You didn't need to ask Mr. Tobin twice, as soon as he heard he was off the hook, he scurried like mad out of the office.

Martin walked around to where Pauline stood and grabbed her hand with his.

"Kitchen! Now!" He snarled under his breath.

She shook him off as soon as they got to the other room as she gripped the kitchen counter for support.

Bert quietly followed behind them in concern.

"Pauline, I – !" The doc began to say when he noticed they weren't alone. "Bert, what are you doing? This doesn't involve you! Get out!"

He held up his chubby hands in defense and tried to calm them down. Pauline turned, and groaned as she saw him behind her.

"Now, I think we all need to calm down and talk about this like rational adults. Cool heads will prevail, eh? It's no use in bottling up your feelings for one another," he replied.

This time both Pauline and Martin turned and said "Out!"

"OK, fine, my work here is done."

As Bert finally stepped out of the room, Martin turned to stare back at Pauline who was strangely quiet and looking off out the window. He almost could see tears forming in the corner of her eyes. He was all prepared for a big battle of wits, but backed down when he saw how much it was getting to her.

"What do you want me to say?" He said finally.

"The truth would be nice for a change," Pauline replied, still gripping the counter with her fingernails.

"I have never lied to you! But, you on the other hand…" he said, defensively, feeling his back up again as he began to pace a bit.

"I don't want to argue," she said, softly, not feeling like retaliating. She instead went over and sat down at the kitchen table and held her head in her hands. "I just want to figure out what is going on inside of me right now."

"Well don't expect me to tell you that. I still haven't figured that one out and I've had the great misfortune to have known you for several years!"

She glanced up at him and then it dawned on her. "You are treating me like she's still here, aren't you? No – that's not true, you're treating me like I'm her!"

He began to tremble at her words as he could feel a chill go up his spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled.

"Look at me, doc – I'm not Louisa, OK!"

"Don't bring her into this!" He warned and turned away from her.

"It's not about her. It's about us. Why is this happening?"

But, he couldn't answer her.

"Didn't you at least feel anything when I was touching you last night? Or when I said I kissed you? Am I that insignificant?" She cried, trying to shake it out of him.

Finally, he turned back and his own eyes were hot with tears as he shouted. "No!"

"'No' what? Last night or the last part?" She demanded.

"I…" he tried to say something, like a confession as his eyes turned tender when he looked down to see her staring back up at him, "I can't…"

She stood up and came up to him. "I felt something."

Looking down, he could see just how close she was standing in front of him. How small her hands were – he tried to raise his own hand to touch her, but only managed one, shaking finger that delicately touched the back of her fingers before he drew away with a grunt of disgust. Turning on his heel, he left through the back door.

Pauline stood there, slightly numb and cried by herself.

(It was early morning when Martin decided to pay his Aunt Joan a visit, she'd invited him for breakfast. On his way back to the cottage, he saw a little moped bike by the side of the road and immediately he recognized it's owner – after all, she was the only one in town to own one):

Pauline sat in the open field, her hair blowing around her face and her helmet sitting beside her. She had her legs peeking out from under her skirt, her feet bare as she felt the grass between her toes. She was leaning back on her hands slightly, yet her face was anything but mellow as she stared off into the sea in the distance just beyond the rolling hills.

It was then she heard the sounds of a car slowing down on the gravel road just behind her. Glancing back, she could see a shimmering silver Lexus stopping in the dust and the driver clearly putting in park.

She looked away and bit her lip. He no doubt was going to scold her for being late again. She didn't need this right now.

"Pauline?" His voice said, breaking only the silence of the gentle wind.

"I just need a few minutes alone, doc – I'll be in later, I promise," she said over her shoulder, but didn't look up at him.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, that's when she noticed he had walked through the grass to stand beside her.

She gazed over at his patent leather shoes and smiled. "You're going to get your nice shoes all dirty!"

"I'm used to it," he replied.

She smiled slightly. "How did you know where I was?"

"I didn't – I noticed your moped as I was driving by."

She just nodded, solemnly.

Then suddenly, she felt him move and sit down beside her on the grass, in his finely pressed suit, groaning a bit as he settled himself and stretched out his long legs. She looked at him in amazement and couldn't help but smile now.

"Grass stains," she whispered.

"Probably."

They both stared out at the ocean for a moment and now Pauline seemed to relax a bit.

"It really is pretty out here. I often come out this way to think."

"Ah!" Was his only reply.

Now it seemed they didn't know what to say to one another. After a long moment of silence, Pauline finally said something.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," she whispered.

"Umm…yes," he said, without affect and then slowly added. "So am I."

"I still meant what I said before you left," she added, hoping to trigger a response.

He continued to stare out blankly at the ocean before him.

"Doc?"

"Martin," he replied.

She looked at him in surprise, she didn't know what he meant. "Huh?"

"My name is Martin, you can call me that…that is if you'd like…?"

He seemed almost shy as he glanced over at him, there was such a little boy quality to him at times, it was hard to ignore.

She grinned. "I don't know – it would feel kinda weird."

"Then, you don't have to, forget it."

"No, no – let me try…um…Martin."

His cheeks turned a bit rosier at his name on her lips, he stared at them despite himself and watched her form the words. She giggled a bit in embarrassment.

"Try calling me Paul."

"Paul is a man's name."

"Paul."

He sighed in exasperation. "Paul."

She smiled at him again. He had to admit it, he loved it when she did.

They stared into one another's eyes for a long time, when she reached over to touch his cheek a bit with her hand. He shook fairly in his shoes at her tender touch. He could feel his heart stand still as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. It was soft and sweet – and over too quickly.

"You have pretty eyes," she whispered.

He didn't know how to reply to it, as without warning, she laid back a bit on the ground next to him.

"Well, you – you have – an interesting…mole formation on your face. Acquired moles are a form of benign neoplasm, while congenital moles, or congenital nevi, are considered a minor malformation or hamartoma and may be at a higher risk for melanoma. A mole can be either subdermal (under the skin) or a pigmented growth on the skin, formed mostly of a type of cell known as a melanocyte."

"That's very interesting…Martin, lie down!" She said and tried to tug on his coat to get his attention.

"Pauline, I'm not lying down, it's one thing to sit in this wretched grass but I'm not rolling around in the dirt where the ground is crawling with God knows what…no!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah – come on, take the coat hanger out and relax!"

"No!" He said, firmly, feeling frankly insulted.

"I'll suck on your earlobe if you do," she teased.

Now he looked down at her in shock. "You'll what?"

"You heard me, come on down here."

Rolling his eyes, he took a deep breath and laid down. But, his shoulders were stiff as he tried hard to get comfortable resting against her. She just smiled at him. Rolling over, he could feel her moving against him until she was nearly resting on top of him – almost reminiscent of the other day.

"Close your eyes," she whispered, her breath in his ear.

He could feel his blood begin to race as she blew hotly on the shell of his ear and then could feel the warm, wet feeling of her tongue sliding around the edge. A tiny moan escaped his lips as by instinct, his arm went around her waist to pull her closer to him. He prayed to God he wasn't dreaming this whole thing but as she nipped at the tip, he knew with the sharp intake of pain, it wasn't. Slowly, she began to suckle on his right earlobe and play with it in her mouth. It almost made his toes curl as he bit down on his lip to contain himself. It was unreal. She was certainly talented.

One of her hands crept up his shirt front and began to undo a few buttons hidden by his tie and slid a few fingers inside to wander over his smooth chest.

"Oh God, Pauline!" He moaned.

"I love your ears!" She said, between nips and kisses.

Suddenly there was a loud horn that broke the silence around them, it had come from the boats in the harbour. It startled Martin who nearly sat up, and Pauline who jumped to her senses – she knew the sound, it was the coast guard alert – they would be needing her.

"That's the signal. Oh my Gawd – I have to go!"

"Go? Go where, but…" Martin muttered, looking confused.

"It's OK, we'll do this later, I promise you that!" She said, glancing down at him as she got to her feet.

He opened his mouth to object when she suddenly dropped to her knees once again, pushed him down on the ground and climbed on top of him.

"Pauline!" He complained, feeling her weight and not sure what had come over her – or him for that matter.

That was until she leaned in close and covered his lips with her own for a sound kiss. He tried to kiss her back, but he was too dumbstruck to do anything.

Finally, she hopped off of him and ran up the hill.

"Later! Promise!" She repeated and waved at him as she struggled to put on her helmet.

"You'll never make it, let me drive you."

"Oh – yeah, OK – thanks!"

He got up, dusted himself off, still shaky on his feet from the kiss he now knew he could actually say he remembered and walked up to her already at the top of the road. He helped put her moped in his trunk and they got into his car together, driving off for the bay down below.


	5. Chapter 5

(Later that day at the surgery, Pauline arrived to a surprise awaiting her as she stepped in through the front door):

It was the sound of music playing. Glancing around, she saw the doctor's little CD and radio behind some patients near the hall window. Classical music filled the waiting room.

She grinned to herself and took to her chair as she started up her computer. For a moment, an old desktop background she once used flashed up in front of her and then reverted back to the newer edition of scenery of Portwenn. But, she'd seen it – like a subliminal message. It was Al standing beside her on the beach, both of them smiling.

She gritted her teeth a bit as she felt a pang in the pit of her stomach. He still had that effect on her, try as she might. The happier moments they shared raced through her mind like an home movie. She fought back her tears – no, she wasn't going to do this!

Opening her browser, she decided to instead research her favorite new thing – trashy entertainment news to get her mind on other things. As soon as she did, a picture of singer Justin Timberlake appeared on her screen. He always did look like Al…

Burying her face on her desk, she began to cry.

A few patients looked up in concern.

Why was she still doing this to herself? She was with the doc now – wasn't she? Or was she? She didn't even know what they were…

"Gawd!" Pauline groaned.

Finally, the kindly local school nurse, Mrs. Maitland, who was waiting for her appointment came over and put her arm around her.

"Paul, what's wrong? Can I do something to help?"

She looked up at her and wiped the tears from her eyes with a swipe of the back of her hand.

"Actually…maybe…" she said, barely able to speak. "Can I get some tea?"

"Sure you can, honey, you do that and I'll answer the phone for you."

She smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Maitland – you're a life saver!"

She gathered herself up and disappeared into the kitchen.

Mrs. Maitland took a few moments to orient herself at Pauline's desk, when the telephone rang.

Picking it up, she replied. "Hello, Portwenn Surgery. Oh yes, Doc Martin? Yes, he's in – let me put you through."

She pushed transfer and placed the call.

"Doctor Ellingham, call for you."

It was not more than probably five minutes later when the surgery door opened and a baffled Martin appeared.

He stared at the place where Pauline usually sat to see a total stranger sitting there, middle aged but with a kind face.

Walking into the lobby, he came up to her desk.

"Oh hello!" She chirped.

"Where's the receptionist? Who are you?" He growled. Why was it so hard to keep people in this job?

But, he panicked a little – where was she?

"Pauline is getting a cup of tea, poor dear – she was in tears and I'm Mrs. Maitland, your 2 o'clock!"

He turned and without a thank you, rushed off towards the kitchen. The woman just shrugged and went back to her new job.

Martin came into the other room to see Pauline looking out the back window, her arm wrapped around herself and sipping the tea in her hand.

Instead of barking at her in his usual superior manner, he realized she was different to him now and his tone was softer.

"Pauline – what's wrong?"

She glanced up at him, her mascara was a bit runny as she said. "Nothin' – I'm OK."

"You're lying and I know you've been crying," he answered her. "I need you out front."

"In a minute," she replied, turning from him.

"There are patients waiting…!"

"I said in a minute! Please don't yell at me," she begged, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm hurting, or doesn't that matter?"

"Of course it does – where does it hurt? Maybe you could pencil yourself in today, I'm not as busy as usual," he said, attempting to sound accommodating.

"Not physically!" she replied. "Nevermind."

"Then what?" He asked her softly.

"I just saw a stupid picture of Al on my computer!"

"Ah," he replied, in his usual manner.

"Look, I'll just come out…"

He could still see she was an emotional mess.

"No, you're in no state to work – go home for the day. I can handle things here."

"But, I'm your right hand," she pleaded as he put his hands out to get her to back off as she wanted to walk past.

"Yes, you are – but tied behind my back is no good to me at the moment, Pauline - go home!"

"OK," she relented. "Thank you."

As she was about to gather her things, she stopped.

"I like the music by the way."

He nodded and put his hands on her back, pushing her towards the door. "Home!"

She walked up front and gave Mrs. Maitland a kiss to the cheek to thank her, taking up her own purse from behind her chair.

Then, walking over to the doctor and to everyone's surprise, she leaned up and kissed his cheek as well. She stopped for a moment, removing the scarf holding back her hair and wrapped it loosely around his neck.

"You smell good," she whispered in his ear and added. "I'll bring you something for supper tonight – save your appetite."

"Paulie…I mean Pauline!" he tried to object, knowing his patients around him – the townsfolk, had seen everything.

"I like that! And, just say yes," she replied, waiting for his answer. It had been a deliberate move – she wanted people to see her affection for him.

With the audience observing them, he knew it was a losing game.

"Yes," he answered, grumpily.

"Good, see you later then," she responded and looked over to see Mrs. Maitland giving her a little cheer as she left.

Martin watched her go for awhile, touching his new found scarf around his neck, he sniffed it – it smelled like her…

He turned to his newest receptionist.

"After you," he told the woman at the desk, holding out his hand.

"Oh right! I was so comfy here I forgot I came to you for my piles!" She exclaimed, giggling merrily.

She didn't observe the sneer from the doctor as he curled his lip in disgust behind her back as he followed her into his office.

(That afternoon, Pauline is at Bert's restaurant, she had asked if they could work together to cook the doc a special meal):

Bert seemed to be laughing at her as he noticed Pauline struggling with a huge cookbook and a pot from under the stove at the same time.

He came over finally to assist her putting it on the burner.

"Easy girl, you're going to have back problems like me the way you're goin'!" He chided as he snickered.

"Oh laugh it up, I can do it! It's fine, just put it down, Bert!"

He put up his hands in resignation. She mellowed a little.

"Sorry, I just want to get this right!"

"You don't worry you're pretty little head, my dear – it will be delicious. But, make sure you add some wine to the paella. What made you decide on that dish anyhow?"

"I don't know," she muttered as she put her hair back to keep it from falling in the food. "It looked exotic. I figured the doc has fine tastes."

"So – err – what is going on with you and the 'doc'?"

She shot him a look and didn't say anything.

"Come on now, this is Bert you're talking to here – you can tell me."

"Yeah, the Bert who knows what everyone else is doin' in town. The same Bert who also tells everyone who doesn't know what is happenin' – what is goin' on!" She answered calmly and turned up the heat on his industrial ovens.

"I think you're just bein' defensive, girl. He's a fine catch, if you don't mind me sayin'."

"Well, then…" she added coming in close to his pudgy face and smirking. "Why don't you take up with him!"

"I might if you don't – he'd help me pay for my bills certainly. Come on, fess up!"

She groaned and then finally relented. "You know, I'm not really sure I know what we are at this point."

"I could talk to him for ya."

"No! Don't do that, alright? I can handle things by myself."

Bert smiled as she seemed to be amply doing it at that very moment, the stove was on, she was fishing out the right spices and had even managed to find the wine, all while holding the page open as she read.

"I can see that. I think he has good tastes too, if you don't mind me saying, my lover."

"You make that sound so sala– sala – what is that word?"

Now he looked confused. "Like I would know, I don't even know what paella is."

She glanced up at him and laughed. "You're the one runnin' the restaurant!"

"British food – fine British cuisine – we don't make the fancy schmancy stuff here! It wouldn't sell – you think someone is going to come in and ask for duck à la oranger here…no sir! We serve just the good folks of Portwenn the home cooking they come to expect. Cornish cuisine!"

"Why are you trying to sell to me, Bert? I've eaten here. I know."

"We're getting' off the topic of the day, my girl – what about we go back to you and the doc."

She handed him a bowl and pushed it into his chest. "What about we don't! Where do you keep the clams, Bert?"

"Ah I see how it is, you're in my restaurant and you're bossin' me around. I see! I see!"

"Bert!" She snarled.

"It's in the fridge, hold your skirt! I'll get it!"

She just smiled at him as she watched him vanish behind the large fridge near the door as she did, she saw someone come in through it – her new friend Sarah.

"Hey! What are you doin' here?" Pauline asked.

As she did, Sarah reached in her pocket producing what looked like a face mask and put it over her nose and mouth, securing it behind her head.

"Hi Pauline, sorry, I better wear this. Oh hello there!" Sarah replied as she noticed someone behind the door she was standing in.

Pauline gave her a look of pity for a moment seeing that her health was gradually getting worse as she let out a hoarse cough. Her friend turned to Bert who nearly jumped when he saw the masked woman.

"Oh God, sorry – I thought you were going to rob me for a moment!" He said, trying to sound less panicked.

"Ah, yeah, the mask – sorry again. I have pneumonia, I'm just taking precautions."

"The doc's idea?" He asked her.

"No, mine actually."

"Bert, this is my friend Sarah – she's in town for a few days," Pauline introduced and Bert nodded to her.

"Your voice – you're not from here are you?"

Her eyes crinkled and it was obvious she was smiling. "No, I'm from North Vancouver."

"See that – I have a trained ear for these things, come in, love – what can I get for you?"

"I was just stopping in to speak to Pauline for a bit, I forgot to give you an update you wanted on that show we were talking about over lunch."

Pauline eyes lit up and she turned, waving a butcher knife she was using to cut up some vegetables. "Oh yeah, yeah, yeah – so did Mike ever go back to her?"

Bert looked panicked again. "Girl, don't wave that 'round, for the love of saint! Put that down! All we need for you to do is cut off your pinky and the doc will probably shut me down for maiming his girlfriend!"

She looked at him in shock. "Bert!"

But, Sarah was quick to pick up on the news. "Girlfriend? Ohh…now that's much more interesting! You and – wait – you mean Dr. Ellingham? Wow! Better than that soap opera – we have our own I see!"

Pauline's face turned bright red. "Thanks so much, Loose Lips Large!"

"I was only informing a friend, not the general public!" He complained and found the clams he was looking for. "Besides, in this town – news travels fast."

"Especially across the room!" Sarah joked, but Pauline didn't seem amused when she and Bert began to giggle amongst themselves.

"Hardy har har! And, I'm not his girlfriend!" She complained as she began to butcher some poor carrot under her knife in frustration.

"That's not what I heard!" Bert replied. "I have it from a source that you and a certain doctor were sharing a kiss the other morning."

Pauline's eyes grew big as she glared at him. "Joan! You've been talking to his aunt haven't you?"

Bert tried to look innocent. "I'm just workin' on her pipes!"

"I bet you are!" She snarled.

Suddenly, Sarah put her hands over her eyes and turned away. She started coughing again as she did.

They both glanced up at her in concern.

"Sarah? Are you alright?" Pauline asked. "Maybe you should sit down."

Bert immediately raced to the other side of the kitchen and fetched her one, insisting she sit down as he helped her into the chair.

"Sorry, sorry," Sarah apologized, profusely.

"Yep, definitely Canadian, eh – apologizin' all over the place. You're fine here, love. Just rest."

"Thank you. It's not that really. I just – I came to Portwenn to get away from it all, but it's still not helping."

"Why don't we go by the doc later this afternoon, I'll find out what's happenin' with the lab results. I think they are havin' computer problems, they're really slow this week for some reason," Pauline explained.

"It's not my pneumonia, Paul – honestly. I just lost someone recently and – well – it's harder than I thought trying to be happy in the face of it."

"Oh God, I didn't know," she told her friend, as she came around to crouch down beside her. "Is there anything I can do."

Sarah looked up and put her hand on hers. "You're sweet, but no – it's OK. I'll be fine. Just do me a favor, don't let things go on too long between you and Martin, alright – one day you'll wake up and he won't be there anymore…"

She broke down then and tried to hide her face as she cried outloud. Pauline came forward and held her a bit as Bert rubbed her back in sympathy.

Finally, when she stopped crying – Pauline looked up into her eyes. "Who was he?"

"My husband, Kyle – we had a fight that morning, stupid thing about bills and he went off in a huff for work – he never made it. He was hit head on when a semi-trailer jackknifed on the highway. He was killed instantly!"

She began to cry again.

"I never got to say goodbye, I felt guilty and still do – if I hadn't had that argument, that stupid argument! I just want him back! Even for five seconds to tell him I loved him!"

"Sarah, my love, it's not your fault – I'm sure he loved you too, I've only known you for a few minutes and I can see how big your heart is!" Bert said warmly, stroking her hair as if she were his daughter. "He was a lucky man, your Kyle."

Pauline just stroked her hand for the longest time in comfort as eventually Sarah recovered, but her words haunted her for the rest of the afternoon as she continued to let the paella simmer.

(Later, early evening, as Pauline made her way back to the cottage – she was beginning to feel she was spending more time here than her own home when the storm clouds moved in. It wasn't long before the dark descended and along with it the relentless torrent of rain):

As she ran for the front door of the surgery, cursing the fact that she'd not thought to bring along an umbrella with her, she fought to open the front door.

The key had always been tricky, it was like opening a safe and now it was even more buggered up than usual. To make matters worse, she was also trying to balance the huge pot of warm paella tucked in a towel under her arm.

But, why was the door even locked?

The thought suddenly left her stunned as she peered into the window of the offices, there was a thin glimmer of light coming from the kitchen in the back and his living space.

Hammering on the door and hitting it with the door knocker, there was still no response within.

"Damnit! Where is he?" She snarled as she continued to battle the door.

Meanwhile, she was getting soaked to the skin. Looking skyward, she started to spit rain out of her mouth as the cold was starting to affect her.

"BLOODY HELL!" She yelled outloud at last, unable to take it any longer.

"Pauline, what are you doing?" Came a familiar voice from behind her at last.

She turned to see the doc come up the steps and join her on the landing. He was wearing a long, beige trenchcoat over his suit. There was a large umbrella in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other.

"Where were you?" She said, angrily kicking the door and looking up at him.

He held up his bag and looked rather sheepish. "We were out of cream."

"I can't open this damned, freakin' door – I hate it! I hate this door! I hate, hate, hate it!" She began to scream and continued to kick it with the toe of her boot.

"Here! Stop that, you're going to damage it! Give me the key!"

"You're more worried about the door – I'm the one soaked to the bone!"

"Yes, yes – key – now!" He demanded and held out his hand.

She just glared at him and pressed it into his palm.

"What is that you're holding?" He asked as he found he was having the same issue as her with the lock.

She couldn't believe him. "Your supper! I slaved over it all afternoon at Bert's – don't tell me you don't remember!"

"Oh – yes – right. I'm sure it will be – ahhh! This damned door is impossible! Come on!"

He put the key in his pocket and turned to her instead, grabbing her arm he tried to urge her to follow him.

"What? Where are we goin'?" She asked, trying to run under his umbrella as he wasn't making any gestures to conceal her from the pounding rain.

She was beginning to feel like a drowned rat.

"The tool shed in back, at least we can get out of the rain in there until it lets up."

Pauline seemed surprised as she felt him put his arm around her to guide them around back. "We have a shed?"

"Yes, it's around the weeds near the cottage," he replied, and tightened his grip on her waist as they went around the surgery to the back. They walked up some stone steps in the dirt to find it.

She was going to ask why they didn't just try the back door instead, but then thought the fact that they would be all alone together in a small building might pose all sorts of interesting possibilities.

Besides, she welcomed any shelter from the blessed rain at the moment.

Opening the door on the little slanted building hidden amongst the pussy willow and wild flowers, he asked her to step inside before him.

As soon as they were both inside, it became apparent…

"Boy, it's awfully snug in here," Pauline whispered as she wriggled for a spot next to the towering doctor.

He tried to move around her without touching her, but as the shelf with several tools behind him was nearly on par with the counter on the side of the room opposite it, you couldn't stand without banging into it constantly. Finally, he got on one side of the counter she was on the other. She found herself with her back up against the wall and his body blocking the entrance.

Somehow, she liked it that way.

Then a cold gust came up from the nearby window, the only view was of more weeds and the rain pouring down the glass outside.

"I'm freezing! Wish I could use my towel with the paella to warm me up but it's wet too!" She whined as she began to shiver uncontrollably.

"You made paella?" He said, sounding surprised at her choice of a meal.

"I thought you'd like somethin' fancy," she muttered, not caring much about the food at the moment.

He hid his grin a bit and then he could see how frigid she was. She was nearly turning blue.

"You're going to catch your death of cold – blasted Portwenn weather! Here…"

Without giving it another thought, he began to take off his damp trench coat and threw it over a hook on the wall, then he undid his gray suit jacket, removing it from his shoulders and walked over to put it around her.

She looked up, meekly, touched by his gesture as he began to help her into the sleeves. Then, the instinctive doctor in him took her by the arms and began to vigorously rub them to try to generate some warmth in her body.

This was nice, she thought – having him take care of me. She liked it.

He stopped what he was doing when he realized he was touching her, despite telling himself he wouldn't.

Moving away from her, he gripped the counter instead.

"There, I think that will suffice until we can get you in something dry," he mumbled.

"My hands though, they're like ice," she whispered and held them up for inspection. Her eyes seemed to be begging him for a little love and attention to them as well.

He couldn't resist feeling like he was responsible for her welfare, so quietly he came in a bit closer and reached down to take her tiny hands in his. She shook a little, he thought it was from the cold as he stroked them for a moment and then closed his palms around her fingers like a nest. Then lifting them to his face, he blew his hot breath between them. It sent an immediate, lovely shiver up her spine.

"Your hands, they're so big," she whispered. "And incredibly warm."

As he did, she lightly touched his chin with her fingertips and now she could feel him shivering instead.

"Better?" He whispered in response.

She nodded and he suddenly dropped her hands – much to her disappointment.

But, she wasn't one to give up quite that easily. As he stood there, unsure of what to do next, she came up to him and made it clear as she gently put her arms around his waist and buried her nose in his chest.

He didn't move a muscle as he could feel her arms tighten around his waist, one hand creeping up to massage his lower back. He closed his eyes for a moment to savor it. She had no idea the effect she was having on him. He wanted so badly to hold her back, but he was scared to.

"I don't want to let you go," she mumbled into his shirt. "You feel so nice…"

"Pauline…" he started to say.

She cringed a bit, bunching his shirt up in her fist as she was sure he was going to ask her to stop what she was doing.

"I'm…I'm…getting wet."

Pauline just giggled against him. "Sorry, I'll…"

The words had only left her mouth when she felt the most amazing thing, his hand softly reaching up and pressing his palm into the middle of her back, holding her to him. Then gradually, the other hand joined it soon held her tight in his arms as he sighed and laid his head atop hers. She couldn't believe it – he was holding her. She remembered their brief hug when she fell into his lap, but this was different somehow – this wasn't an accident.

Her smile grew big as she loved how it felt to be lost in his embrace. She felt so safe.

"You know this getting is dangerous, don't you?" He asked her.

"Mmmhmm…" she agreed, grinning.

"Perhaps we should get out of your wet clothes."

Pauline's eyes went wide with shock. "Sorry?"

She looked up at him and he was fumbling for words. "No, I mean – you're going to freeze in that blouse…I…"

Now she was giggling again. "It's OK, but you have to turn around – alright?"

He nodded, letting her go finally and like a gentleman, he turned to face the nearest wall to give her some dignity as she rustled out of her wet clothes.

Trying to distract his mind from the fact he could hear her doing so, he looked around in front of him – what he saw took his breath away. On the wall was a clear, metal pan that acted as a mirror, so that he could clearly see Pauline behind him. He tried to look away but found his eyes refused to relinquish the sight they beheld. She had her back to him, so she had no idea he was watching her.

As she raised her wet shirt over her head, she bared the long, graceful curve of her perfect back to him. Her skin was radiant, glowing in the dim light of the turbulent dusk outside, soft shoulders framed only by her now crimson, dampened hair that lay plastered against it showed off the freckles like constellations against her skin. He followed his eyes down to admire the dimples on either of her lower hips, and the line where her buttocks began barely covered by her gypsy skirt that was hugging her legs. She looked incredible.

Martin could feel his pulse racing as he closed his eyes to steady his breathing. This really was dangerous…

He watched her as she tossed aside her wet blouse and wriggled into his oversized jacket. There was something unquestionably erotic about the fact she was donning his clothes in the nude, but he censored his thoughts.

"You can look now," she replied.

She was still fully unaware that he'd witnessed everything.

He turned to face her again and immediately his eyes were drawn down to her cleavage peeking out from the front of his suit – barely covering her modesty. His cheeks turned rosy as he tried to hide his growing desire.

She just smiled, softly.

"Much better," she said, in relief.

He could see the gentle curve of her breast and his eyes were led down to what looked like her plum-colored nipples pressed up against the dark, ebony tweed of his jacket. And then there was that tattoo – she'd flashed it at him once during a physical exam – the one that he thought was a frog, though she claimed it was actually a komodo dragon.

Martin closed his eyes, but Pauline noticed the stare.

"Can I admit something to you? You see this?"

She unbuttoned the front of the coat she was wearing and exposed her bare breasts to him, he looked back at her, thinking he was safe – only to recoil in shock.

"Pauline!"

"Why are you shutting your eyes? And you call yourself a doctor!" She complained.

"That's because you're not a patient, you're…" he mumbled, still not looking at her.

"I'm what? I'd really like to know," she confessed. She was dying for him to define their particular relationship.

But, he refused to answer her. "Please – conceal yourself."

"Relax, alright – I was just going to show you – it really is a frog."

Her reply caused him to glance up and he seemed to observe her breasts now in a purely clinical light.

"I got it in grade school because of a stupid dare by Melissa Enfield – I hated the thing and I ended up hating her. So when my breasts grew as I got older – and – well, drooped a little, I said it was a komodo dragon. I thought it sounded better somehow. But, damn you for figuring it out!"

Martin smiled a bit, despite his best efforts. This caused Pauline to giggle a bit at the silliness of it all and he laughed lightly in response.

Pauline stopped laughing for a moment – no, not a belly laugh – but lovely to hear nonetheless.

She peered up at him contemplatively for a moment and at last concealed her breasts again.

"So – am I your girlfriend? Lover? Mistress?"

He stared into her eyes in surprise, his mouth hanging open. "Pauline!"

"I thought we agreed upon Paul?" She replied, and lifted her hand up to close his mouth.

"We – I mean to say – us – no we – we are," he mumbled, unable to get the words out.

She just shook her head and smiled, opening her arms – she wandered back into his embrace. Placing her cheek against his chest to hear his heartbeat, to feel his warmth.

"You know what – it doesn't really matter that much right now," she whispered.

He sighed in relief and now had no hesitation as he put his arms around her tiny shoulders and his head against hers.

They stood together, sheltering one another from the chill that permeated the small shed to the point of feeling like they were the only two people in the whole world.

She just loved listening to his breathing as she could feel the strength of his arms around her, and admitted the sensation of his toasty skin hidden only by his dress shirt beneath her hands was wonderful.

Slowly, his fingers stroked the soft slope of her back under the familiarity of his jacket. He instinctively rubbed his face over the crown of her head, a smile crossing his expression.

She was pleasantly surprised at how affectionate he was when relaxed.

Pauline hoped that the rain would never end.

But, then she felt him reach up to take her by her arms and move her away from him a little so that she gazed up into his soft, gray eyes with just a little shimmer of green. He circled his arm loosely around her waist.

Martin said nothing as his hand shook, he started to raise it up to attempt to touch her face. He caressed the little mole on her cheek as he started to lower his face to hers. She got up on her toes a little to meet him half way.

"The rain," he replied, suddenly.

"Yes?" She asked in confusion.

"It's stopped."

Just like that, he abruptly let her go and she looked bewildered.

"I would guess the paella can be salvaged on the stove," he said, not really noticing her expression.

He turned to unemotionally gather up his trenchcoat.

Pauline felt her heart drop.

That was it?

"Pauline?" He asked, noticing she wasn't moving.

Hiding her eyes away, she nodded to herself and gathered up her pot on the counter in silence.

Hot tears began to flood her eyes, but she fought against them.

But, it only made matters worse. Finally she could no longer take it.

"Why didn't you kiss me?" She whispered, still not looking at him.

"What?" He asked, staring at her back, he could tell she was shaking.

"It's because I'm – nevermind!"

"Pauline – I – " he started to explain, but his tone was flat and she knew that he was probably going to start lecturing to her about lab results instead.

"You think it's just you, don't you? It's not – you're not the only one scared and unsure of what to do. All I know is I like what's happenin' to us – whatever we are – and I don't want it to stop. I like it when you touch me, don't be afraid to, please. I just don't…"

She tried to say more but covered her face as she cried openly.

Suddenly, a light went on inside Martin.

'What am I doing? I love this woman – I love her!'

Coming up behind her, he softly wrapped her in his arms and buried his face in her soft curls until he sensed her crying had subsided. She held her breath as she felt him.

Then, gently he spun her around to face him. She looked so vulnerable, so lonely as he finally reached down to hold her face between his large hands. He caressed the tears from her beautiful eyes with his thumb.

Quietly, he lowered his face to hers as he lifted her chin with his finger and closed the distance between them as she felt the first touch of the his lips on hers.

Tender and yielding, Pauline's mouth accepted his eagerly as she returned the kiss with as much passion as she could. It was a gentle kiss, but full of meaning as he turned his head to one side to kiss her with more emotion. Pauline moved her hand up Martin's arm to pull him closer. This was what they both wanted now; they could no longer deny it.

Her head was swimming, it didn't feel real somehow. Was she really here? Having him kissing her like this? This was how it should be, she kept telling herself – this was right.

Suddenly, as if it dawned on him who he was truly kissing, his touch became more gentle. She could feel him tremble a bit as his full lips took command and consumed hers. She sensed the tip of his tongue urging hers to part and she allowed him inside. Sensing her acceptance, he slid it inside her heat and could taste a hint of spearmint gum her breath and the salt of tears on her lips. He hummed a little bit as she muffled a giggle as it was almost unreal how happy she felt. Martin moaned a little in return, slowly and tenderly devouring her warm lips with his.

He moved into her a bit so that he could lift Pauline up into his arms, holding her tightly as she still tried to stand ungainly on her toes. She put her arms around his neck and slipped one hand behind his jaw as she could still feel the rain on his skin. The kiss turned a bit more intense as they explored a bit and Pauline climbed Martin's teeth with her own. He played a bit with her tongue as it darted around his as she could feel his breath in her cheek. He tasted like Earl Grey and she liked that. His fingers began to find their way under her coat so that he was boldly stroking her bare back, gripping it in his fingertips until she groaned in response.

At last, needing the sustenance of air, they broke free as he gingerly set her back down on her feet. His lips lingered on hers for a tiny bit longer. They seemed stunned, but only for a moment at the realization of what just happened between them.

She was giddy, giggling a bit, and his face flush as he stared at her with desire and tenderness. His smile was genuine, and easily came to his face.

There was no doubt – they were no longer just a doctor and his receptionist and the thought brought a large smile to her face.

"Umm…significant other," he mumbled.

"What?" She asked, still grinning.

"What you are to me – I think it's safe to call you that," he interpreted, grinning himself.

She giggled now. "That's too formal, I like girlfriend better."

"Fine," he said, a little sour for a brief moment.

She reached up to take him into her arms a bit, causing her to stand nearly on her toes once more. He brought her up close and squeezed her, lifting her even more. She'd have to get used to the height difference and his near bear hugs – it was a change she was willing to make as she held him back warmly.

"Why don't we go get some of that paella, huh?" She whispered into his ear. "And get dried off."

He nodded and smiling, released her.

Martin helped her with the paella now as he carried it for her, then he held out his hand for hers. She felt like a bashful teenager as she accepted it. Opening the door, they walked back to the cottage together.

As they did, he stopped at the back door. "Oh damn!"

"What?" She asked, unsure why he seemed upset.

"The side entrance!"

She just started giggling. "Well, I thought of that – but you were so bent on the shed, I didn't want to disappoint you. Besides, I think it was worth the detour."

He grinned at her. Then brought her closer and gave her a shy and brief kiss. "Yes."

(Back inside, and after warming up a bit of the paella, they shared a late supper together):

She was pleased to see how he sighed when he bit into her food and then took another bite, only to close his eyes with a soft smile coming across his face. It was the best compliment he could have paid her as he continued to eat and eventually accept a second helping.

He watched her as she stood near the sink and then he noticed her shaking a little from the chill in the kitchen.

"Pauline – I mean – Paul, why don't you go upstairs. You can borrow one of my shirts from my closet and maybe wring out your skirt a bit if it's not too bad. I can clean up here and put on some tea. And dry your hair."

"Yes, sir!" She said, mocking his tone – some things never changed.

He glanced up at her, and made a face. Then, his brow relaxed as he watched her leave the room. He admitted to himself, it was going to take some getting used to this new relationship.

Upstairs, Pauline went through Martin's closet, admiring how finely pressed his shirts were amongst his myriad of rather similarly-colored jackets.

"My God, he's so anal!" She said, and grimaced at the thought of the man she was now dating. "Doesn't he own a jumper or a decent pair of – oh hello – what's this?"

She reached deep into his closet and produced a rather lonely looking pair of simple blue jeans.

"Wow, he must have used these back in his 20s," she said to herself. "Probably can't even get into them now."

She giggled as she looked at them and decided to try them on. Wriggling out of her wet skirt and dropping it on a nearby chair, she modeled the rather oversized pair in a nearby full-length mirror and had to admit, they looked pretty good on her.

Then she goes back to the closet to look through more of his things, finally choosing a simple blue dress shirt and putting it on. Again it's way too big for her, but at least it's dry and she loves that it's his.

She could get used to this, she mused as she admired herself.

Looking over his room for a moment in the lamplight, she started to run her fingers over the end of his bed, along his coverlet, playing a bit with his personal things on his dresser, smelling his cologne and looking over what he held dear.

Somehow, she liked the feeling – as if she belonged here now, it was a nice sensation.

That's when she spotted something she wasn't expecting that changed that prospective – a small newspaper article tucked under the doily on the dresser top. Pulling it free, she read it was an article about the appointment of a new headmaster to Moffats. She read it a bit and then put it back in it's hiding place.

Now she knew as she noticed a bit of blood on the corner of the newspaper print itself – what he'd been 'reading' that day he injured his foot. Her heart dropped as she lowered her eyes a bit.

'No, I'm not goin' let this get to me,' she told herself. 'It's just an old newspaper article!'

But she knew it really was more.

Gathering up her old clothes and going off to his washroom for a towel, she decided it was better to join the doc again downstairs. Switching off his lamp, she left the room, even as she glanced down for one last look at the lone article.

Downstairs, Martin was in the process of cleaning up and steeping some tea when he noticed Pauline walk up behind him.

"Oh, you found something – I…are those my blue jeans?"

"I think they look rather good on me – don't you?" She said, smirking at him. She twirled around in them for him.

"Take those off!" He snapped.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me!" He snarled.

"My skirt was wet thank you very much and these were dry or would you rather I catch pneumonia like Sarah? Perhaps then I can finally get a few days off!" She argued, feeling her anger return.

Some things really never did change.

"You know what – you're right!" She declared.

Without another comment, she began to strip out of his pants in front of him.

It was surprising – this time he didn't turn away, but lifted his chin indignantly as he watched her. Finally, he relented.

"No! Stop – keep them on! You're right, you need to wear – something – to keep you warm."

He turned and went back to making his tea.

Pauline came up to him and placed her head against his back, her arms touching his waist lightly.

"Thank you. I'm sorry I took the jeans without asking – they just reminded me of you and I wanted them close to me."

He smiled to himself and lifted the tiny tea bags out of each china cup. "It's fine. Understood."


	6. Chapter 6

**NOTE – I appreciate all the reviews so far, thanks for reading my little fanfic. I wanted to mention that I have taken some liberties with the storyline of the original show and below I'm paying a little homage to the original Doc Martin movies with the character, Dr. Martin Bamford. The character in those movies was considerably different from the Doc Martin from the series, but I did borrow a little of the dialogue from the first film that you will see when Martin rages to Bert a little later on. More to come and as Martin Clunes says "Watch this space!" Enjoy! **

"So, what is the attachment to them?" She asked, quietly, still with her cheek up against his back.

"They were a gift."

"From who?" She asked, she wondered if they were from Louisa…

"Myself."

She was confused. "I don't get it?"

He turned around and so she moved away from him. Sitting down in front of him, he handed her the tea he'd made for her.

"It was to remind me of who I am. When I started in medical school, I was young and ambitious – I wanted to cure everyone, thought I would be that one doctor with the Midas touch. The jeans were the one symbol I had of that idealism, to keep me grounded. I only wore them a few times, I had another pair I wore a hole in. These I rarely used."

Pauline felt guilty for borrowing them suddenly. "I shouldn't have…"

"They look good on you, a bit big – but I don't know, nice to see them again and to recall that memory. Thank you, Pauline."

She smiled and then standing next to him, kissed his cheek.

They sat together for a bit, Pauline was quietly chewing on a biscuit she'd gotten from a tin on the counter when she contemplated him.

"You know – I think your aunt and Bert are trying to hook us up," she said, calmly.

Martin peered up at her with a look of dismay on his face. "Why am I not surprised."

"Well, at least we know they are behind us," she replied.

He grimaced. "Yes – most times, literally!"

They looked at each other and snickered a bit at the thought.

"How's your hair?" He asked, suddenly gazing up at the damp curls plastered to the top of her head. "Are you cold?"

"A little," she admitted and sipped her tea. "I'll be fine."

"Here…" he commented and stood up, walking in behind her he took a towel she'd brought down from the bathroom and covered her entire head with it.

She giggled a bit and then she could feel him begin to scruff her hair with it. She just sat there and let him go to work on her like she was at some sort of ugly, pseudo salon. She kind of liked being fussed over.

That was until he got a little too rough.

"Easy, easy – don't take my head off!" She whined.

He stopped doing it entirely.

"It's OK, you can keep going – just fluff not scrub!"

He pulled up a chair next to hers and continued to minister to her hair.

She kept on talking, even under the towel.

"So is there anything you wanted to ask me?"

He looked at her confused, though she couldn't read his expression.

"No," Martin answered flatly.

"Nothing personal, something you've been dyin' to know about me?"

"No."

"Doc, come on!"

"I thought we agreed upon Martin," he muttered, mocking her lightly.

"Martin then – go on – ask me something!"

At last, he decided to make the effort.

"Very well, why didn't you pick up those medical gloves from Mrs. Tishell when I asked you to the other day?"

She grabbed his hand to make him stop his fluffing her hair and took the towel from her head to glare at him.

"Are you serious? That's your big question for me?"

"You never even made the effort, you know I need those for the surgery!"

She rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you – I mean something personal, something you've always wondered about me."

"I have worked with you for several years, you don't hold any mysteries I don't already know."

"Oh really – alright – what's my middle name?" She asked, looking defiant, though wet.

He just sat there blank-faced.

"Well?"

"Jennifer," he said, simple and straightforward.

She looked surprised.

"Well?" He asked her in return.

"Shut up – you know you're right – I hate you sometimes."

He just smiled at her and then finally she begrudgingly smiled in return.

"It's on your CV," He whispered.

"Yes, I know – smart aleck! You can read, good for you! Alright, can I ask you something personal in return?"

Now he moved in his seat rather uncomfortably. "No. I already told you about the jeans."

"No, something else…let me think."

"Pauline, I have eaten your paella and yes, we have shared – a moment – in the shed, but I'm not going to divulge my entire life story to you over tea!" He snarled and seemed almost ready to get up again.

"It's called a kiss."

"I know what it was!" He answered.

"Well, off you go then – " she replied, and got up to put her cup in the sink. "Now you'll ask me to leave, right – so I guess this is goodnight."

"I never asked you to leave, but if you wish -"

"Do you want me to stay?" She replied, turning and giving him a chance to stop her.

He simply stared at the table before him, stroking the wood with his open hand. She wasn't sure what that reaction was, but waited patiently for a sign from him.

"If you wish…" he said again.

Pauline lowered her eyes in frustration. "What about what you want? What do you want of me?"

He slowly gazed up in her face and finally said. "Ask me."

She glanced up and saw that he was just staring into her face. His eyes were softer and unwavering.

"Anything?"

He raised his chin a bit. "Yes – within reason."

She smirked slightly. Then, she decided this was too good an opportunity to pass up – looking around the room, lost in thought – she took a long time to ponder what she could ask.

Martin started to grow annoyed by her indecision. "By the time you decide, your tea will be cold."

"Yeah, yeah – don't rush me."

"Alright – I have it. How did you develop your blood thing?"

The anger that crossed his face made her freeze up for a moment, this time he did stand up as he grasped his cup roughly, nearly throwing it down in the sink. He glared down into the basin, and was silent. She was about ready to give up and simply move the conversation to something else

Then very slowly, as he stood for a long time with his back to her, he spoke at last.

"I treated patients every day. They were always just another statistic for me, another notch under my belt of pride as a cardiovascular surgeon – bodies, brought in for me to heal. It was like I had the power of God or at least that's what people made me believe. One day, I was going past one of the rooms of the next 'body' that would come to my table and I saw a group of people hovering around this woman, she was beautiful – she was reassuring the family, her family that she'd be alright. She was dying, and I was her last chance. I froze. When it came time to operate on her, I looked down and saw her sleeping face under the gas. I couldn't do it, as they opened her up – I panicked, I felt my own heart racing and she died right under me because I couldn't react. They say she would have died anyhow because her heart was in such bad shape, but I never – forgave myself and since then, the sight or smell of blood or cauterized flesh causes my brain to have a mini meltdown. So, they sent me to this general practice here – in Portwenn."

He gripped the counter and she could hear his labored breathing. She knew the mere thought of what he was telling her was affecting him.

Standing up quietly behind him, she took his arm in hers and leaned up against him.

"That woman was the luckiest woman in the world because you were her doctor, someone who cared about her. Yes, she died, but not by your hand, Martin – it was her time. You won't return to London, because there you treated bodies. Here you treat people. Yeah, they may be more than annoying with their little aches and pains and general complaints – but you know they need you, and respect you. You give them what they need – reassurance that your advice – however harsh is what they need to hear, because they trust you know what you're doing and they won't come to harm with you as their doc. This village would fall apart without you – there'd be mass hysteria in the streets, lunatics calling their neighbors the Pope and people hacking up fish bones in the streets! And, they not just your friends now, they've become family."

There were tears in his eyes as he turned to smile at her

"How did you suddenly become so sage?"

She puts her arms around his waist and buries her nose in his side, embracing him. Leaning forward he bends down to kiss her lips, lightly.

"I learned from the best," she whispered. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

He brought her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you for staying," he whispered into her hair.

"Anytime," she replied, softly. "You only need to ask."

As she stayed nestled safely in his arms, he couldn't help but notice the ever-frustrating habit she had of wearing her tops so loosely that they kept falling off one of her shoulders. Though no doubt the fact that his shirt she wore was a bit too big for her. Reaching down, he tried to pull it up her soft shoulder and as he did, he inadvertently played with her skin with his fingertips.

She seemed to purr in response and smile to herself as she buried herself further in his embrace. He just grinned and kept stroking her bared skin which somehow felt comforting.

Bert received a call from Joan the next morning, something regarding plumbing, which he had to remind her that he no longer did. What he didn't admit was the fact that he had a sweet spot for her now, so he purposely omitted telling her before now.

When he showed up at her farm on the outskirts of Portwenn later that day, he brought with him a pre-made lunch from his restaurant instead.

It turned into more of a gossip session as they ate together at her kitchen table.

"Yes, I clearly heard Martin ask her why she had kissed him. And she was coming from his room upstairs at the surgery when he did. I could scarcely believe it myself!"

"Well, I guess they are really a couple now, my lover," Bert responded as Joan gave him the news.

"Have you seen either of them since that time?"

"Our little Paul was making the doc a fancy meal at the restaurant yesterday. I tried to get more out of her, she almost admitted to it, but then she sort of kept mum."

"I probably would have as well you're not the best person to confess a secret to, Bert!" Joan replied and started to clear their empty plates.

Bert surprised her frankly he turned out to be a fine cook after all, though it might have been the new help he hired.

"Well, pardonee mio! Here I am tryin' to be helpful and all I get is a snarly thank you," he replied, a bit bitter.

"Sorry Bert, why don't we discuss other things? How is the business fairing lately?" she asked, actually trying to crack a smile.

Her soft, cherry cheeks beamed as she was a picture of Cornish health.

He felt a little tickle as he noticed it and her shining grey eyes – so much like the doc's.

"Good, good – Joan, can I ask you somethin'? It's been sort of on my mind of late," Bert said, sitting up a bit and scratching the back of his hand a bit in nervousness. "When you lived here as a young lass, you went by the name of Joanie Ellingham. Why don't ya anymore?"

"Come off it Bert, you already know about all of that – I changed my name when I married my husband Phil – Norton is his name. When he died, I kept it."

"You've – you've never thought of changin' that?" Bert asked, quietly. His curious, blue eyes held a twinkle of their own as he glanced up at her.

"Bert – where is this coming from? What a ridiculous question! No, I've been Joan Norton for years, I don't see the sense in changing my ways now."

She looked at him, skeptically, he seemed inordinately nervous today and she had no idea why. As the blush rose on his cheeks – she wondered briefly if he was – no, what a ridiculous thought!

His eyes cast down at the table in disappointment for a moment as he replied.

"No, of course not – just makin' conversation, girl!"

He tried to laugh good-naturedly, but Joan wasn't going to dismiss it that easy.

"So why has there never been another Mrs. Large?"

"Haven't found Mrs. Right yet, I guess – I have high standards, my darlin' – she has to be spirited, devoted, carin' and totally in love with me!"

Joan laughed outloud. "You'll never find her then, Bert – she doesn't exist!"

He glanced back up into her face. "Oh, I wouldn't know about that…"

Now it was Joan who was blushing.

"I'm too old to beat around the mulberry bush, Joanie – I like you – I think you like me. This thing with the two lovebirds has been bringin' us together as well. I may be out in left field, but – why don't we give it a go? What do you say?"

"Don't be propesterous, Bert!" she hissed.

Turning away, she tried to steady her heart as she looked for a diversion when she heard Bert come up from behind her.

"Now, now – I know you're an Ellingham and that stubbornness is in you, girl – but don't turn stoic like your nephew. There's nothing wrong with a little May-December romance."

He tried to touch her hips and moved his face in to kiss her neck, when she suddenly spun on her heel and shot him a look.

"Get out!" she barked. "How dare you say I'm too old for you!"

"What – no, that's not what I meant, my darlin' – I…"

"I'm not your darlin' anything! Out!" she shouted even louder, and looked ready to take a broom nearby and hit him with it.

Finally, he put up his hands and backed off. "You have my number, if you want to reach me. Oh and when you clean the pot, you can bring it back anytime."

"Out!"

He scurried away like a frightened dog.

She bristled in anger for a moment, but yet she could still feel the touch of his hands and the kiss on her neck. She had to admit, it felt actually pretty good – considering it was Bert.

(Later that same morning at the surgery):

Pauline wandered off for a spot of tea around 10:00AM. The doc's workload was minimal today and so she had a bit of breathing room to relax and think. All that was on her mind was the kiss from the previous day and the man in the office across from hers.

It wasn't more than a few minutes of playing around with the tea kettle when she heard someone come up behind her, she didn't need to look as she knew the sound of his step by now.

"Would you like a cup?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered and came up to stand next to her.

She glanced over at him, smiling secretly as she bumped his hip with hers. He almost cracked a smile and his eyes betrayed his new found happiness with her, though he said nothing.

"How ya' doin' today?" she whispered, softly.

"Fine…" was all he replied.

Ah yes – Mr. Conversation.

"Good!" she chirped.

Usually she found his lack of chatter a bit frustrating but now she found it instead rather endearing. Getting out an extra tea bag she watched him as he began to fish around in the dishwasher for some cups.

"Any patients this afternoon?" he asked, coolly professional as he handed her a cup.

"Thank you, I think just Mrs. Sotheby and Mr. Leyland, both for follow-up."

"Mrs. Sotheby isn't due for another week – she's early again."

She just snickered. "Aren't they always?"

"Why won't patients listen to advice?" he snarled. "I told her two weeks! It's only one!"

He huffed a bit and then looked at her, seeing as she was about to return to her desk.

"Pa – Paul!"

She tried to hide her smile as he was still getting used to her shortened nickname.

"You know, it's alright if you call me Pauline, if you're comfortable with that as long as I can still call you doc sometimes?"

He nodded and braved a smile. She nodded in return with a cute little grin, yep – stimulating conversation!

As she headed again for the door, he stopped her.

"Wait!"

Looking up, she waited for him. "What?"

Coming over to her, he gave her a funny look.

"Your hair – it's uh – out of place."

He suddenly reached up with his hand and started to redo her hair clip and put a few stray locks of her copper curls into place, straightening out her scrunchie-held ponytail in the process.

Her face betrayed a soft blush as she smiled up at him.

As he senses its fine, he nonchalantly muttered to himself and goes past her to fix his tea, once more ignoring her.

She looked at him for the longest time and then turning to act as if it was nothing out of the ordinary – she promptly bangs into the doorway on her way back to the lobby.

Martin heard the thump and turned in time to see her mistake. So much – like him…

He couldn't help but start to chuckle.

(Later that afternoon, after much of the patient load had thinned out so that there were only roughly three to four people in the lobby):

Martin came from his office for the next patient's file when he heard Pauline clearly talking to someone on the phone and giggling aloud at the same time.

"You say the funniest things – yes, that's so true. And really – he did that? I can believe it. Yes, he still does! Oh my God!" she said into her phone, as she began to laugh again.

He knew she was talking about him, she always did to everyone who seemed to walk through the front door. He glanced momentarily at the display on her phone and recognized the number right away from Imperial. Finlay! Damn him! Why couldn't he make her laugh like that?

"Pauline!" he snarled as she stood vigilantly by her desk.

A few patients looked up in concern, finding what was happening far more interesting than the newest Hello! Magazine.

"Just a minute, doc," she said, briefly covering the receiver with her hand and then went back to the chat over the phone. "Yes…really? Which restaurant? That's expensive! No! Well, next time you're in Portwenn then!"

Martin could feel the jealousy rising in him as he continued to watch her flirting openly on the phone.

"Unless this is a medical matter you're discussing with him, hang up the phone! I need you right now!" he hissed as he dropped his files soundly on her desk.

The patients watching them, cringed, but Pauline chose to ignore him.

"You are such a tease! Yes, yes – uh huh. I will. Thank you, you too –"

Then she broke into a giggle again at some comment the doctor made over the phone and with a quick goodbye finally hung up.

She looked blankly up at Martin looming over her, his nostrils flaring again.

"Something wrong?"

"No!" he snarled and turned on his heel to go back to his office, slamming the door behind him.

Pauline really had no intention of doing anything remotely romantic with Dr. Finlay – but a little bit of jealousy was a nice thing.

Yet she decided perhaps it would be better to smooth over things, it wasn't fair to him after all.

Knocking softly on his door, she heard him on the other side.

"Come!"

Opening it, she peered around it to see him eyeing her suspiciously.

"Are you mad?"

"No!" he snapped and went back to the stuff on his desk, no doubt just notes on what sock to put on first in the morning – you know, to vary his routine.

"Doc, I was just talkin'. I have no interest in Dr. Finlay, I can see his type coming from a mile away. I am only interested in one doctor and he's sitting over there in a grump right now."

He wouldn't answer her; he just buried his nose back down in his work.

"Martin, I'm sorry."

"You always are," he grumbled. "What time is it?"

"Nearly two – why?"

"I'm going out for awhile, cancel the rest of my appointments!"

Without saying anything more, he began to gather up his briefcase and shut off his laptop.

"Oh please, don't be pissed at me – I was being stupid! Don't be like this!"

He turned finally and glared at her. He wanted dearly to say something in rebuttal but instead kept his tongue.

Walking up to her, he pushed his way past and stormed out of the clinic – slamming the front door.

Pauline just wrung her hands at her side and growled. "He's such a drama queen! Gawd!"

(About fifteen minutes later):

We see Martin walking in long, defiant strides down the hill with his case at his side and the look of a man on a mission. He glanced around him a few times as if searching for something.

He stopped only momentarily on the street near PC Penhale's office and then thought the better of it and came back up the hill. His eyes were still surveying the area and he checked his watch.

At last he took a deep breath and walked down the steps with the awning overhead that read "Large Restaurant"

Bert was inside, preparing for the afternoon lunch crowd when he saw Dr. Ellingham join him in the kitchen. There was a new female chef cooking stuff by the stove, she looked not much older than his last one and a young man was writing down and filling orders on a note pad near the fridge.

"Doc, to what do we owe to this visit today? Not here for another safety inspection, are you? I still have my first aid tin in the same place on the far wall – right over there!" Bert replied, looking up to notice the tall man by his doorway. He pointed across the room.

But, he realized he wasn't even noticing his gesturing – his face was full of anger and he looked as if he were about to explode.

"You alright, doc?"

"Yes – can I – talk to you in private for a moment?"

"Sorry, no can do, boss – I have to get ready for my big crowd this afternoon. They are pretty hungry at this time of the day and come in droves. Maybe in half an hour?"

Martin didn't budge, just looked even more frustrated. He could tell something was really giving him a bee in his bonnet.

"Alright, tell you what – I can give you ten minutes, but that's it – would that work?"

He seemed to relax as he begrudgingly took Bert's humble offer.

"Yes – that will suffice."

Bert gave some light instructions to his relief staff - they argued with him a bit and finally relented. He then walked over to the doc and held out his hand for him to step inside his house which was upstairs from the café.

"So, what's up?" Bert asked when they were at last alone.

Martin suddenly clammed up and seemed reluctant to divulge the reason for his visit.

"Doc – I only have a little bit of time. Sorry."

He knew Bert was his only outlet at the moment and so he had to open up to him.

"It's about – women."

"Ahh – this might take more than ten minutes, you know…"

He laughed but the doc wasn't sharing his humor.

"Here, sit down, son – tell me what's on your mind," the older man replied, kindly – offering him a chair in his living room.

It had actually been a long time since anyone had called him 'son' and it did a lot to reassure him. Bert was always like a – well – like a – he wasn't sure what, but at least he was always there – good or bad.

Taking a seat on his sofa, with its questionable upholstery, he glanced up at him.

"'That bloody woman!'" He started to curse. "What is it with her? Her entire gender for that matter? They think of a serious relationship like its some sort of game! You try to be considerate, you try to be kind and you try to be affectionate – and what do they do - just laugh in your face even after you are – personal – with them! She thinks it's all a joke!"

He yelled, letting the thoughts pour out of his mouth without editing them. He stood up and began to pace the room, impatiently.

Bert looked frankly surprised at his honesty. There was no doubt of who he was referring to. "Doc, I…"

But, Martin went on and cut him off.

"You give your heart, they stomp on it, crush it, and then throw it against the wall! She was talking to some two-bit doctor from Imperial on the phone today, so cavalierly as if it were nothing! It wasn't! If she wants him, she can have him! I'm done chasing after her, cleaning up after her messes! I thought I cared about her, or at least I was really starting to! She just makes fun of everything! She talks like a little girl, laughs all the time, dresses like she was shopping at the thrift store and mocks everything I do! 'You know, she's one of these people that wears their horizon right on the end of their nose, you know what I mean? Everything has to be about her' – her relationship, her desk, her precious things, her blessed tattoo! 'She has no real concept of honesty, if she chooses to lie, if it suits her. She doesn't see it as lying, she just chooses not to use the truth!'"

"Doc, I'm sure she…"

The doctor was far from done.

"How can you love someone you can't build a serious relationship with? A person for whom if she were in grade school and you're the kid in the corner she feels sorry for! I don't need her pity!"

"Doc…"

"I mean, what is that – I thought she was something special, but, that idea went out the window about five seconds ago! 'Oh! When I first met her…!'"

"Martin!" Bert shouted at last, unable to stand it any longer.

The sound of his name finally roused the younger man to his senses as he looked up, he came to the realization of just how much he'd admitted to him – Bert Large of all people.

Finally, he sank down on the couch in silent defeat, he'd never gone off like that before – frankly, it scared him a little and by the looks of it – Bert as well.

Bert sat down next to him, and in a fatherly manner, he put his arm around the man and squeezed him close.

"Now, I know you're not my boy – but, I still care about you doc like you are. Pauline does tend to take everything in jest, I admit that. But, you know what – she's got a big heart too. She's a good girl and I know she loves you as well."

Martin looked up in alarm, as if it were the first time he'd heard that in association with Pauline.

"You have to be gentle with her. She's had a rough childhood that girl, and I think she's still healing from it, but she refuses to deal with stuff head on. She needs someone with a strong, steady and caring heart. A big heart like the one you have. It's hard to find at times, but I know it's there beatin' away inside of you, son. Just don't underestimate yourselves – you both have something special. I know you love her too. You can't tell me you don't anymore – understood?"

The doctor looked down for a moment and then up at his confidante next to him. He smiled. Nodding quietly to him.

"Thank you, Bert."

"You're welcome, my boy. Now, why don't you let me treat you to some lunch downstairs, I think this is all partially a product of an empty stomach, don't you think?"

Standing up, he was about to follow him back outside when Bert suddenly held out his arms to him.

"What?" hissed Martin, looking uncomfortable at the idea.

"Come on, give us a hug!"

"No."

"The least you can do for me helpin' ya!" Bert said, firmly.

Martin sighed and put his arms around the portly, short man as he clamped the doctor tightly in his arms. He patted him briefly on the back.

"OK, that's good – let go!" Martin whispered.

Bert rolled his eyes and did as he asked.

"Alright, let's go get that lunch!" Bert chirped.

Martin nodded and at last followed him outside.

"This doesn't mean you can have a get in free card to come in my clinic, whenever you feel like it, Bert."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Bert ranted, and smirked at him. Then he crossed his thick fingers behind his back.

(Returning back to the surgery at closing time, having spent much of the rest of the day on housecalls):

Martin walked in, self-important and feeling slightly vindicated by Bert, he was surprised to find Pauline was not at her post. The lobby was now clear of patients so he walked back towards his office, as he noticed the door open.

He stopped half-way through the door to see Pauline dusting the buddha on his mantlepiece. Before he could object, Pauline walked off towards the kitchen without saying anything, pushing her way past him like he wasn't there.

That's when he noticed that everything in his office had been straightened up, cleaned and cared for. This was her way of apologizing.

He had to admit it was nice, but he was still angry at her.

Going off to the kitchen, he glared angrily at her back.

She didn't turn to him this time, she didn't know what to say anymore.

For a moment, she tried to make some tea, but then gave up just as she reached for a tea bag. Dropping it on the counter, she instead walked towards the back door and opened it to leave.

He didn't stop her this time, even as she hesitated. Lowering her head slightly, she disappeared into the night.

Martin walked out the door and watched her go.

She stopped once more, and looked up at him. This time there were tears in her eyes, then she turned and walked away.

His own expression was one of guilt. She had no idea how much he wanted to run after her at that moment, take her into his arms and tell her what an ass he'd been – but he didn't.

Instead he went back inside, shutting off the light – and going to bed – alone.

(Later that evening, at around midnight):

The clinic had closed hours ago, but Martin though dressed for bed, couldn't sleep. Over and over again in his mind, he saw the events of the day play back like a movie.

At last, he got up and fixed himself a cup of tea. Returning to his rooms, he heard the soft patter of rain on his window sill and stood with a tea plate and cup as he watched it come down.

Like the first time they kissed…

He knew he'd never be able to look at the rain the same way again.

Knowing that trying to fight against the inevitability of a sleepless night, he sat near the window and relaxed a bit as he took another sip of his tea. Wearing a simple grey T-shirt over a pair of pajama bottoms, he crossed his bare ankles and rested back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

Closing his eyes, he could sense her for a moment, as if she were there in the room with him. He was standing near her, her soft skin glowing in the gentle lamplight and looking incredible as her sapphire eyes gazed up into his. He reached up to undo her hair which cascaded in voluminous, strawberry curls around her lovely face. Martin buried his hand in them, they felt like silk against his fingers as he cupped the back of her neck and brought her up against him. Leaning low, he covered her questioning lips with his which separated to let him inside. She slowly began to pull up on his shirt, trying to lift it over his head. He broke away momentarily, and lifted it off for her. Immediately, her lips sought his bare-skinned chest with her warm, seeking lips and kissed one of his nipples. He groaned as he began to undo her blouse in haste as he began to suckle her soft throat. At last, he slid one hand inside her shirt unable to take it any longer to cup her firm, peaking breast against his palm while his other hand coasted over her stomach to the toasty place between her quivering thighs.

Suddenly, he sat up with a start as his eyes opened wide and he realized he was quite alone in the room. He began to shake at how real the dream had been. This was going to be indeed a long night. As something was awakening in his lap, he reached for a nearby embroidered cushion and covered it as if even he was embarrassed by the knowledge – that yes – he was a man with normal urges.

Trying to steady his nerves, he noticed the rain wasn't abating, if anything – it was coming down harder.

Getting up, he gazed at the inky blackness beyond his window, seeing his own reflection looking back at him. Barely visible were nearby lights from Portwenn and flashes of lightening bolting across the night sky as the rain clashed like a gladiator with the weather.

That's when he saw it –

He had to look twice, it couldn't be – it wasn't possible!

A white shroud was ascending the hill to his cottage, it almost glowed.

He looked terrified as his first thought convinced him that all his beliefs were baseless.

A ghost? A restless spirit – coming to seek revenge for poor patient care, dying at his hand…

Then, as the vision drew closer – he made out a human form, a tiny one that looked female…

Pauline!

As she drew closer, he could make out that the ghostly form was actually the white nightgown she wore. She held a large raincoat over her head as she ran along the hillside, trying hard to make her way along and stumbling in a pair of flat sandals.

He didn't even have to think twice as he dashed for his door and took to the steps to let her in.

Throwing open the door, he yelled out to her.

"Pauline! Get in here at once! Have you lost your mind? You're going to catch your death of cold dressed like that – hurry!"

She saw him with relief as her eyes acknowledged him. As she struggled up the stone steps to the cottage, she came to him at last but hesitated.

"No – I have to apologize…!" She said.

"Don't be ridiculous – get in here!"

"I can't – I'm sorry for this afternoon! I couldn't stop thinking about it – I can't sleep!"

He just grimaced at her. "Yes – alright, fine – I'm – I'm sorry too – get in!"

Coming up to him, she immediately ran into his arms. He couldn't help it, he bent down and held her close to him as tears began to come to his eyes, though he wasn't sure if it was the rain or not as he was getting wet himself.

"I love you!" She said in his ear. It was almost inaudible over the downpour, but he heard it.

Pulling her away from him, he looked down into her soaking wet face to see her vulnerable expression to see she meant what she said.

He said nothing for the longest time. He looked away and it was obvious her feelings were not shared.

Finally, she lowered her eyes. "You're right, I am getting wet. I…"

What he did surprised her next, stepping outside in the cold night air with the rain running rivers down his hair and clothing, he closed the door behind them.

"Martin! What are you…?"

He took her face in his large hands and captured her mouth with his own before she could say anything else. His kiss was passionate as he nearly crushed her lips with his as his tongue sought acceptance past her own and she separated them. She felt a slight growth of beard on his cheek as he buried his nose into her cheek and breathed heavily into her mouth as their tongues tangled in exploration together. The rain was pelting down on them and it was freezing, but they didn't care anymore. She reached up and took him into her arms as he lifted her once again so that her toes dangled on the cottage, stone landing.

Finally, he released her and he drizzled rain into her face as she looked up at him, for once speechless.

"And I love you," he whispered as he gazed down at her.

She nearly cried as she grinned up at him. "So that's your remedy for insomnia? I like it!"

He laughed lightly and then turned to go inside. Only to realize that he accidentally locked the door behind them.

"No!" He shouted as he began to kick the door. "Oh blast! Bollocks! Why is this stupid thing locked!"

"Hey, easy now – you'll damage the door!"

He shot her a dirty look but she couldn't help but smile at the irony of it, he was going to say something snarky despite their romantic moment when she produced a key in her hand.

He grinned at her. "If I ever questioned what I said before, now I know why I do," he admitted.

She opened the door for him and came inside. As she started to walk off for the kitchen out of instinct, thinking they could talk about things over a cup of tea – he instead reached out and caught a hold of her hand.

Without a word, he gently led her upstairs.

She looked a little surprised but then grinned as she quietly followed him.

Upstairs, he sat in his tiny washroom with her perched on the side of his bathtub as he dried her hair with a towel. This was starting to become routine. He admitted he sort of liked it. She returned the favor, moments later. At first he objected, then sat patiently as she scrubbed his hair dry with the towel and then kissed the top of his head when she was done. His soft, blonde hair was standing up at odd angles, but she found it rather cute.

Then he looked up at her, and quietly noted. "Your nightgown – it's still wet…"

She gazed down at it and grinned at him. "It is, isn't it? So – what should we do about it?"

He just glanced down at her cleavage looming close to his face as she purposely bent low with the front of her dress gaping open for him to take a peek. He could feel the color rise to his cheeks as he tried not to notice it.

"A shirt!" He suddenly exclaimed, so loud that she jumped when he did.

Coughing loudly and grumbling to himself, he stood ungainly on his feet and ran from the bathroom to fetch her one.

She just smiled as she watched him. Poor doc, he wasn't exactly a lady's man.

When he returned, he handed her a white dress shirt of his, a size too large.

Gratefully she took it from him.

"Thanks!"

As she did, she began to strip out of her nightgown.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed, what does it look like I'm doing?"

"Well, at least warn me – so I can turn around!"

"There's nothing wrong with my body, is there?"

He danced in spot as she continued to take her clothes off. He kept chanting to himself 'I'm a doctor! I'm a doctor!'

But, at last, he couldn't take it as he watched her disrobe down to nothing with her back turned to him and flashing a bit of her curvaceous bum for his eyes to take in. Coughing again, he disappeared from the room, banging into the door as he did with a loud thump.

She rolled her eyes and got changed.


	7. Chapter 7

She rolled her eyes and got changed and out her nightgown so all she wore was his dress shirt.

Pauline spent a little bit more time in front of the washroom mirror to try to do something with her hair, as she entered his bedroom to notice him pulling his wet T-shirt up over his head.

She had been so quiet with bare feet that he hadn't heard her as she walked in.

Looking him over unobserved, she had to admire his broad, hairless chest - pale as the moonlight with his well-formed shoulders and strong arms. There was only a little hint of belly forming on him that Pauline decided she liked – his skin looked eminently touchable. Like some great big, grumpy teddy bear.

He finally removed the shirt from his head and that's when he realized he was being watched. Startled, he just stared at her in horror.

"Would you mind knocking before you simply walk into my room!"

He thanked God that he'd had enough sense to change his pajama bottoms earlier.

She tisked him lightly as she came up to him and tossed the shirt he still held in his hands over a nearby chair. Taking a dry shirt from his bureau, she helped him on with it. But, not before lightly tracing her fingers softly across his chest. She played with a nipple, sending a jolt through his system suddenly.

"Pauline, stop that!" He scolded and batted her hand away.

She looked disappointed as she drew aside and seemed to cower a bit as she stood off to the corner of his closet. It was unlike her, it was as if she was purposely trying to be on her best behavior.

There was a very brief glimmer of a smile in his eyes, with it he made a surprise announcement.

"Perhaps I can do without my shirt tonight – that is if you don't mind?"

Pauline gazed up at him, not believing he said what he did.

"No, umm…that would be nice actually."

She almost seemed bashful. Was this a different side of her?

"Are you alright?" He asked, as if she had some sort of illness.

"I'm great! How are you?" She said, sarcastically.

'Yes, she's fine', he thought.

Instead, she walked up and put her hand under his arm and led him back to bed. Throwing back the covers of the bed, she started to crawl up on his bed and knelt on top of it like an over eager child.

He just looked at her blankly, making no move to lay down himself.

"Aren't you going to join me? It's awfully cold up here by myself, why don't you come and warm me up a bit?" She asked, trying to seem demure but he wasn't buying it any longer.

"How is it that you immediately take over ownership of my bed the minute you're in it?" He snarled, still not making any motions towards it.

"I guess it's because I'm so cozy!"

He made a face. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"Doc!" She whined.

"Very well," he snarled and climbed into the bed next to her.

"You see, this isn't bad, is it?" She whispered as she wiggled in close to him.

Martin, on the other hand, was as prone as a corpse – both refusing to move or relax.

"This isn't going to work! I need my shirt!" He announced and tried to get up, before Pauline grabbed his shoulder.

"It's OK, shhh…" she whispered.

He groaned in exasperation as she looked over at him, his pillow next to hers.

Slowly, her hand crept down under the sheets that covered them to seek his hand clenched by his side. Timidly, she stroked the back of it and then she grew a bit bolder and tried to move it down his hip. It was clear that as soon as she did, he could sense her beginning to…

"You're shaking…" he replied softly as he glanced over at her.

"No, I'm not," she said, but the blush on her face and her reaction told him she was.

His brow knitted a bit as he rolled over to look at her a bit more closely, but he still did not touch her.

"Yes, you are…"

"Don't laugh at me!" she hissed and turned over to face the wall, with her back to him.

As she did, the blanket came away from her a bit and he could see her shirt off one shoulder again and the softness of her curls falling down upon her sheets, barely visible in the light from outside as the rain let up and it was suddenly quiet. He could feel his heart stop as he made out the curves of her body in silhouette against the starkness of his bedroom window. She looked like a painting.

He desperately wanted to pretend the emotions she evoked in him at that moment weren't taking over his reasoning, but he couldn't resist her any longer.

Then he knew, he had to relax and enjoy simply being with her, she'd given him the greatest gift he knew – her heart. And, he was lost to her as well, and it was a wonderful thing.

Crying a bit, but trying to disguise it as he knew he was the one to make the overtures, she didn't have to say anything as he at last moved in close to her and softly put his arm around her tiny waist. Pulling her a little up against him, he buried her nose in her hair so that he smelled her aroma, becoming familiar with it. She sighed as she felt his hand flat against her belly.

Gradually, he softly kissed her bared shoulder with the caress of his lips.

She closed her eyes as she felt his lips move up from her shoulder to her neck, to gently nuzzle behind her ear. She gripped his fingers a little tighter with her own, for fear almost that if she let go – he would too. But, this time he didn't.

He felt so solid, so warm as he licked at her skin, tasting her – as if he were wanting to imprint it on his memory. She curled her neck a bit so he had easier access and this time she groaned a bit, loving how that felt.

His hand firmly left hers and gradually he became adventurous as his fingers moved up her ribcage to paw lightly at one of her breasts hiding beneath that damning shirt of his. She undid a few buttons on her shirt as he touched her naked skin when she guided his hand to covet one of her breasts, gliding up its smooth curve to stroke her nipple tip until it hardened under his fingertips.

"Oh Doc!" She purred.

He almost smiled as he heard the old nickname on her lips. To know it was her he was kissing like this made it all the more enticing for him.

"Pauline," he answered, as he moaned heavily into her skin, breathing her in.

She craned her face around to him and met his lips with her own as they kissed one another hungrily.

Finally, she could no longer stand it, rolling over to face him while still managing to kiss him, she pressed her breasts flat against his bare chest. She buried herself in his arms and he looked down at her as they separated.

"I think maybe we should consider slowing down a bit," he whispered, being the voice of reason.

She was disappointed as she felt they were just getting started, but knew he was probably right in this instance.

"Yeah, I think so too," she commented.

He laid on his back and tenderly pulled her to lay across him as he embraced her shoulders. She put her cheek on his chest and kissed him there for a moment. Cuddling in close, he leaned over and kissed the top of her head, fondly. She brought the blankets up around them as she closed her eyes.

Finally – sleep beckoned.

"Goodnight, Pauline."

"Night, night – teddy bear…" she replied.

He looked down at her.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Teddy bear," she said, as she rested her chin on his stomach and glanced up at him. "It's a pet name."

"No!" He said, glaring hard at her. There was a look of disdain on his face again.

"But, it's cute!"

"No."

"Martin!" She objected.

"Much better!" He sighed and laid back in relief.

She shook her head and smiled.

Then, cuddling up to her stuffed pooh, she fell asleep only when she could hear him snoring away beneath her.

The next morning, it was Pauline who awoke first as she found herself on her stomach, her head turned towards the window. The sunlight's warm rays touched her cheek, causing her eyes to open.

For a moment, she forgot where she was, but as she looked around the room – she remembered exactly. Then, the moments – the lovely moments from the night before – which seemed like a dream to her now became a reality as she could hear the deep rumble of snoring coming from behind her in the toasty bed.

Rustling around a bit, she tried to be quiet and not make any sudden movements as she laid facing the other way to see Martin's face lying next to her's. His cheek was a bit mushed up to one side into the pillow he lay upon, his lip curled a bit as he let out another loud snore.

She just giggled a bit and crawled in a little closer to kiss his nose.

He didn't stir.

His arm was possessively around her, one hand managing to find the bare spot on her back, almost claiming one of her buttocks as he slept on blissfully unaware. She didn't move a muscle.

Pauline had no idea what time it was and thoughts of patients no doubt arriving to start the day was the last thing on her mind as she nestled in close to him, cradling his head against her shoulder a bit and going back to sleep.

Martin eventually woke sometime later. The first thing he saw was of Pauline's face curled up beside him, her hair was falling across her face. She was hugging his arm like a cat.

Grinning a bit, he reached over and brushed her hair aside as she slept. This time he didn't mind that she was in his bed. He actually hoped it would happen again.

Leaning forward on his elbow above her a bit, he kissed her lips for a moment, lingering on how lovely it all felt. As he did, he happened to glance over her a bit to notice the clock on his end table to see it read 8:14 AM.

"Shit!" He cursed as his eyes grew wide and that's when he could suddenly hear what sounded like knocking coming from downstairs and a faint voice beyond his window.

"Pauline! Get up!" He said in a loud whisper and tried to nudge her. She instead just turned over on her side with a disgruntled sound and went back to sleep.

Ignoring her, he got up and ran across the room to his closet to quickly fetch his clothes.

As he started to shed his pajama bottoms, he felt suddenly self aware that he was half naked and that she was still in his bed. He wondered if she was laying there watching him, but as he glanced up, he noticed that she was fast asleep under a huge pile of blankets – little chance of that.

Shedding his T-shirt, he stood naked and threw on some underwear at break neck speed, as he hopped over with one foot barely in his boxers to look for some dress pants and he nearly leaped into those as well. Soon, he threw on the rest of his outfit as he straightened his tie and jacket.

"For God sakes, Pauline – get out of bed!" He yelled.

Taking a pillow from the end of the bed, in fact several – he started to throw them at her.

She just mumbled something unintelligible and slept on.

"She sleeps like some sort of indigenous, tree stump! Pauline!"

Coming around to her side of the bed, he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and began to shake her.

"Get up! Now!"

"Wha…what are you doin'?" She said, as she tried to push him off, struggling to open her eyes. She rubbed her face as she came to her senses. Then she saw his clock too. "Oh God – is that the time?"

"Yes! The surgery should have opened a half an hour ago! There's someone downstairs right now! This is just perfect! Why do I let you talk me into these situations?" He snarled, looking angry and indignant.

"Me? You were the one that took my hand last night and led me up to your room!"

He just sat there beside her, looking a little flustered. "Well – I – it's not important right now! The clinic is opening and now everyone in Portwenn will know! No doubt they will announce it at noon on Caroline's radio show!"

"Whatevah!" She snarled and sat up, her shirt wide open and revealing her breasts to his eyes again.

He looked away in embarrassment.

"What is wrong with you? Gawd! You were squeezing them last night and I never heard you complainin'!" She snarled. "They're just breasts!"

"Right – it – it doesn't matter – there are patients downstairs and I have a job to do even if you don't!" He snapped and rose a little too quickly to his feet.

For a moment, the blood that had been rushing somewhere else came back to his head and he nearly stumbled on the end of the bed, before walking on in his usual self-righteous manner for the door.

"Hold on – I'm comin' too!" She replied and groaned as she lifted herself finally out of bed.

Eventually, after Pauline got dressed in her nightgown from the night before, she followed Martin down the steps. He was lecturing her on how to conduct themselves so no one would know what had happened when he saw her walk around him down the steps and go for the door to answer it.

He rushed down and jumped forward to grab her by the back collar of the nightgown, yanking her back a bit.

"No! You can't answer the door dressed like that!" He yelled, feeling panicked.

"Well, I don't have anything else to wear, what would you suggest?"

For a long time he stood there contemplating it as he she stood looking at him expectantly.

"You'll have to go around the side door and go up the hill, take the long way around to Bert's and try not to be seen. I'll tell the patients nothing, if they ask you're sick and possibly coming in late."

She stared at him in disbelief.

"You want me to go out dressed like this?" She asked.

"Do you have a better suggestion!" He hissed.

She pushed her way past him. "Fine!"

As she was getting set to hike the long way around, she came ran up and shoved him back a little.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

She pulled him forward by yanking up on his tie to bring his face down for a quick kiss. He kissed her a little longer than he should as she separated from him with a smile and ran out the back entrance near the kitchen with a wave.

He stood there for a moment and watched her, a definite blush rising to her cheeks – despite the near miss, he'd have to ask her to stay another night sometime in the future.

Outside the clinic, there was a small bevy of teenage girls that often liked to hover around the clinic, idly walking around and chattering to one another. They were the bane of the doctor's existence ever since coming to Portwenn, often knowing everything he was doing and often teasing him about things to the point of feeling like he was in grade school all over again.

But, this time, as they ambled up the hill – they caught probably their juiciest tidbit yet. That of receptionist, Pauline Lamb, dressed in a white, billowing nightgown leaving the side entrance of the doc's clinic early in the morning and sneaking around to the back of the alleyway – thinking no one had noticed her exit.

"Oh my God, do you see what I see?" Chirped one of the adolescent girls. "Is that Pauline? Does that mean?"

The other girls began to laugh at the mere thought.

"Looks like our doc's been a naughty boy!" Another giggled.

(Later that afternoon, close to noon):

Pauline met up with Sarah who was arriving her appointment with the doctor, still coughing quite a bit. She smiled beneath her mask as she saw her friend.

"You're getting in late!" She commented.

Suddenly, Pauline could feel someone watching her and looked up to the window on the second floor landing of the cottage to see Martin staring down at her as he drank either his tea or coffee. His face was dour and unemotional, but she still made out a glimmer of something in his eyes.

"I think we're being watched," Sarah replied as she looked up at him herself. "So how are things going between you two?"

"Can I confess something to you?" Pauline whispered. "I stayed here last night, that's why I just got here, I had to go home and change."

Sarah looked excited. "Did you…?"

"No, nothing like that, not that I wouldn't have minded it – but we decided not to rush things. But, I came to him last night in my pjs – so I had to go home and get changed. He's probably skulking now wondering if half the village knows."

Sarah laughed a bit and patted her on the back as she glared up at Martin still watching them from above. She gave him a wave and a smile, he gave her a look of disgust and walked away. Probably well aware they were discussing him.

As they came inside at last, they were met up by Martin coming down the steps.

"Goodmorning, Dr. Ellingham!" Sarah said, trying to keep a straight face. He gave her a snarly look as she walked past.

Pauline, on the other hand, simply ignored him as she grinned and went over to her desk in the corner. But, she couldn't help but add as he walked through to his offices.

"I saw you watching me from the upstairs' window as I came in – you're like Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre or Dracula eyeing his next victim!"

"Shut up, Pauline!" Martin snarls and returns to his office, slamming the door.

Sarah and Pauline begin to snicker.

As she settles in, turning on her computer and slinging her purse over a nearby hook, she glanced around her in bewilderment. Sarah sits nearby on the window seat. It's then that Pauline notices something odd about her desk.

"What the…?"

"What's the matter?" Her friend asks her.

"My kleenex box and hand lotion – they were practically empty. They're full. These are a different box – and this looks newly bought. And, there's chocolates on my desk – I rarely get these because they are hard to find in town. How?"

She looks up at the doc's office and suddenly realizes they are a gift. She smiles a bit and her cheeks turn rosy.

"Mmm…wonder if it's your admirer from upstairs," Sarah replies. "That's really sweet of him."

"Yeah!" Pauline says and sits down, with a permanent smile on her face. Nothing would bring her down today.

Eventually Martin called Sarah into his office.

Coughing again, despite herself, she sat down in the chair across from his desk. He was ignoring her and digging in his filing cabinet when he turned to face her at last.

"What is that?" He asked, pointedly.

"What do you mean?" She asked him.

"On your face."

She touched her mask. "Oh this? I bought it from the pharmacist, thought it might help keep folks from getting my germs. This is a small village, don't want to start a pandemic."

"Wise choice," he said, and then looked away to his desk as if complimenting someone seemed awkward for him.

"Thank you. Can I ask – have you heard anything from the labs yet on what I have?"

"No, and I should have by now, considering it's been a week!" He snarled.

Suddenly, he reached across his desk and hit the intercom button on his phone.

"Pauline, do you have the test results for Ms. Marshall?" He barked into the machine.

"Sarah?" Came her voice over the line. "No, they've never been this slow before."

"Can you get them on the horn and try to see what they are doing?"

"Alright. I'm on it!"

Sarah sat there, with a bit of a grin on her face, but she knew the doctor wouldn't be able to see it.

"She's good, isn't she?" She quipped. "You know, it can't be easy dating someone you work with 24/7…"

He glared at her as if he knew she was hinting on some sort of heart to heart, but he knew she was treading into unknown territory here and he didn't like it.

Grumbling a bit, he went back over her file instead. Standing up, he circled around the desk and sat in front of her on the edge.

"Need to check me again? Sure," she answered, rather compliant. "I haven't been getting very much sleep – I feel like I can't breathe at night. I lie down and my throat closes up."

He felt around her throat and the underside of her chin.

"You're very swollen, have you been taking the antibiotics I prescribed for you?"

"Yes, in fact I finished the bottle yesterday – I feel like I'm getting worse rather than better – not that that's your fault."

"Of course not!" He confirmed, as if there was no doubt in his mind.

Sarah smiled a bit, and he still took no notice.

"Should I take something stronger?"

He sat back down in his chair. "No, it won't be necessary. Do you have a family history of any sort of respiratory illness?"

"No, not that I know of."

For once he seemed a bit dumbfounded.

"I think I will run some tests myself, rather than relying solely on the lab and see what I can come back with!" He announced, unexpectantly.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He looked at her strangely.

"I appreciate the fact you're going out of your way on this."

"It's my job!" He snarls.

"Yeah, I know it is. I can still appreciate it, if you don't mind."

He again looked at her oddly.

"It's no wonder you two have become friends…"

As she glanced up, surprised at his words, she smiled at him again. This time he noticed the glint in her eye and knew that she was.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she whispered. "So what's your opinion on what I have?"

"At this stage I can't tell without further testing," he snarled, and began rifling through his things again.

"Bull!" She announced suddenly.

Martin turned to glare at her. "I'm sorry, but would you prefer I just treat you with any drug I prescribe until you're laid up in a semi coma?"

"No, what I mean is – I know you're not the kind of doctor that sugar coats things. That's why I like you. You can tell me plainly. I've been through the medical system for years. Doctors always feel like dancing around something potentially serious. You don't take me as that kind of a man. So why are you starting now?"

He seemed frankly impressed by her honesty and figured he owed it to her. "Because I simply don't know – is that honest enough for you? All I can do is speculate and I don't want to put you through more unless I'm certain. I can give you some sort of relaxant to help with your throat closing up, but at the moment – that's all I can do."

Going across to his medical cabinet in the corner of the room, he compiled some basic plastic cups and equipment to run a simple lab test of his own making. A few minutes later, after asking her to spit into a cup and take a sample of her blood (which she observed him looking away quite blanched, which to her was interesting) and then he was done.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied, begrudgingly.

"Are you hemophobic?" She asked out of the blue.

Martin stared at her in shock, he wondered how she knew.

"I take that as a yes – it's alright if you are, you know, I'll keep it under my hat. Good thing you're not diabetic though or the daily testing would get to you. I hate it myself, but I guess I've gotten used to it, used to make me queasy."

He was quiet for a few moments before he added.

"Where are you staying?"

It sounded like small talk, she wasn't expecting it.

"Umm…The Crow's Nest."

"It's drafty."

She grinned again. "A bit. Do you think it's effecting my pneumonia?"

"I don't think it's pneumonia, but yes."

"I'll have to change accommodations."

For the longest time there was a painful silence between them.

"Pauline has mentioned you."

He didn't answer her this time.

"Don't you want to know what she had to say?"

Still he ignored her.

"No. See her on your way out."

With that she could see the session was over, as she was standing she added.

"When we went out for dinner at Bert's recently – all she talked about was you. So she had plenty to say," Sarah replied as she reached for the door. "It wasn't anything in particular."

She looked at him softly and then bowed out the door as he glanced up in surprise.

As Sarah exited the clinic, she was met up by the strange little police officer she'd seen a few days ago – PC Penhale, she recalled.

"Hello, nice to see you again," he chirped, trying to sound a bit more amiable this time. "I assume you've been following proper medical instructions given to you by our 'doc' here!"

He had a little bit of an upswing in his tone with the word 'doc' as if trying to sound boastful.

"Yes, thank you. Good to see you again. Thanks for coming to my rescue."

"Just doing my job, ma'am. You were a damsel in distress and I was…nevermind."

He seemed to blush slightly.

"You can call me Sarah if you like."

He looked up in surprise. "Sarah…pretty name. I mean…"

She smiled.

"Would you like a police escort back to your living quarters?"

"Sure, that would be nice. You can tell me more about Portwenn."

"Ah yes, the crime mecca of Cornwall."

She tried to keep a straight face. "You don't say…"

"Let me bend your ear a bit, if I will. I have some stories to tell…"

She grinned as they walked together down the hill.

(After hours, Martin is getting ready for bed):

Though he realized he'd rather have Pauline beside him, he knew that they needed some time apart from one another. Of late it seemed like every waking moment he was around her. And, for some unknown reason what would have bothered him otherwise – this time he wasn't complaining.

Finding his favorite book on the 'Journal of Endocrinology and Metabolism', he settled into bed with a plate of biscuits and a nice glass of milk to settle his nerves.

Yet, as he was reading, his mind naturally started to drift. He actually eyed his cell phone sitting on his table next to him, almost wanting to pick it up and invite her over. Then he scoffed at the idea – what was he doing? He wasn't in grade school anymore for heaven sakes! Besides, most girls laughed at him in school. Though he had to admit – now he was an adult. But, still the notion was ridiculous.

Grumbling a bit to himself, he dug back into his book.

When he did, he found his eyes starting to grow heavy and he was drifting off to sleep when he hears a loud beep coming from downstairs, and the sound of the phone ringing. Lifting his head only slightly he hears her voice, he can't help but turn as he listens to the message and the lovely sounds of Pauline.

'Hello, this is the Portwenn Surgery, there is no one here to take your call at the moment, but please leave a message and I'll call you back.'

He laid back to feel a nice, little fuzzy feeling in his stomach as the phone rang again and once more Pauline's voice came over the speaker.

He realized he could listen to her all night.

But, then he heard her voice replying back to her message and knew it was Pauline on the line herself.

"Doc?" She called out. "You there?"

Immediately he reached over for his cell, and hitting the extension for the main line's phone he answered.

"Umm..yes."

"Can you sleep?"

"No."

"Neither can I."

He knew she wanted him to invite her over again, he hesitated as he knew that it was still quite improper even though he was dying to ask, he still couldn't bring himself to do it. There was a very long pause as he held the phone to his chest for a moment to think about it.

"Doc!" He heard her yell into the phone.

Picking it up, he lifted it to his ear again.

"Yes?"

"Can I come over for the night?"

"I – I don't think…" he fumbled for the words.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," she said softly and hung up on her end.

"Pauline!" He shouted into the phone. There was no response. "Pauline!"

Turning it off, he looked up at the ceiling. There she did it again – inviting herself into his bed.

A smile crept up to his lips as he awaited her arrival.

(A week passes and Pauline becomes a regular overnighter at Martin's cottage. She was actually surprised that Bert didn't send out a notice around town looking for her):

Gradually Pauline's stuff had mysteriously moved from her place above Large's Restaurant to his bathroom and bedroom. At first he didn't object, but one morning while shaving, he found her depilatory in place of his shaving cream.

Walking out of the bathroom into the bedroom where she was sitting reading a book in her Malibu Beach T-shirt and tights that she sometimes wore to bed. He held out the offending thing in insult.

"I just about shaved myself with – with this! Why don't you tell me when you leave all your sundries lying about like that!"

She rolled her eyes. "Didn't you realize it wasn't your stuff when you saw the wording on the side that says 'Smooth as silk in lovely lavender scent'?"

Getting up, she walked over to him and urged him to follow – for a moment he stood his ground until she took his hand and led him back to the bathroom.

"And, what is this?" He snarled as he held up her small hair trimmer.

"That is for my eyebrows, Martin – do you want me to explain what everything does or do you just want to think my stuff has some evil purpose?"

"I also couldn't help but notice you had well over a half dozen non-descript medications in my cabinet – most of which are highly dangerous and which I didn't prescribe."

"I don't come to you for everything!" She snarled. "Alright, one is for a foot fungus - I don't have any more…"

His eyes grew big at the revolting thought when she calmed his fears with her words.

"Another is contraceptive cream, I thought I'd keep that – you never know, well – I can dream anyhow…"

"Excuse me, but who do you plan to use that with?"

She looked at him incredulously. "You, you idiot! Though at this point I'm having my doubts."

"Which means?"

"Nevermind."

"Right, I can see this conversation is quickly degenerating as all our conversations do to one of sex."

"That would be the day," she hissed, and looked through the cabinet at what else she could find. "I'm beginning to think you're like the 40 Year Old Virgin!"

"I'm 48 and I have had intimate relations, not that it's any of your business!" He said, and turned away from her in humiliation. He began digging in the cabinet again.

"You're 48? Wow!"

He shot her a dirty look.

"And, it's my business if you're going to share a bed with me!" She said, feeling her dander go up again. She immediately grabbed some tiny tablets from his hand. "Those are diet pills!"

"Correction, my bed and why do you need so much medication?"

"I like to have things on hand if I need it in case of an emergency!" She objected.

He pulled something else from the cabinet before she could intercept it.

"Fluconazole? You need this for emergencies?"

"That's for yeast infection – I don't have it anymore!"

"I know what it's for! You're like a walking contagion! You're supposed to discard unused medication, you don't keep it past an expiration date – it's dangerous!"

"You know what would solve this – you stay at my place, then you can spread your annoying junk everywhere!" She quipped and grabbed back her cream.

"What would solve this is throwing it away!" He commented and threw the cream into a nearby waste bucket.

"Hey! Whatever! You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't ask one," he snapped.

She stood with her hands on her hips and glared at him.

"Well, you didn't!" He repeated.

"Tomorrow night, would you like to stay at my place? How's that?"

"No!" He answered firmly.

"And why not?"

"Because I don't intend everyone in town to know of our -"

"Our 'what'? They already know!"

"Did you tell them?" He demanded. He ignored her now and tried to go back to his routine of shaving. She grabbed the razor from his hand, nearly nicking him. "Watch it! You're going to cut me with that!"

"Lift your chin, I'll do it!"

He sighed heavily and then did as she asked and she began to shave him clean. She double checked that she was no longer using her depilatory cream. "I didn't tell anyone, if you must know – well, except for Sarah."

"Wonderful, a perfect stranger!"

"She's my friend!"

"I know, she was trying to corner me about it a week ago – well, something along those lines."

"So come over to my place late at night when no one is around, it could be – illicit!"

She started to giggle at the thought but he didn't look amused.

Finally, she finished up his face and smoothed it a bit with a hand towel. Then, she came up and stroked his cheek sweetly.

"I love you still, you know," she whispered and tried to lean up to kiss him, but he wasn't as easily persuaded. She pulled down a bit on his light blue T-shirt to get him down to her level.

"You're just trying to deflect the matters at hand!"

"Yeah, yeah – you just like to argue, it's in your blood. I know."

At last he relented and bent over to share her kiss for a moment, and an all too brief hug.

"Illicit?" He asked her, looking rather uncertain.

"How about 11:00PM tonight?"

"We both have to work in the morning," he warned her.

"I know, I know –"

"We'll see," he whispered.

She grinned and got ready for her day as well.

(Later that morning, at Bert's restaurant, Joan pops around with some crops she'd just picked in crates to sell before his customers arrived. She seemed in a less than charitable mood):

"Goodmorning, Joanie!" Bert called out as he met her by her van as she was unloading near the front entrance. "Fine day today."

"Yes, I suppose it is," she retorted, in a rather frosty tone.

"Oh come on now, you're not still mad at me?"

"Don't be conciliatory with me, Bert Large – I'm just here to sell my vegetables and then I'll be on my way!"

She brushed past him before he had a chance to stop her as she walked rather painfully down the steps. She had hoped to make a graceful exit – but damned her osteoporosis!

"Here, let me help you with that!"

She turned and glared at him, "I am not 85, I can do it myself, thank you very much."

"Yep, stubborn like the doc!"

"Well, if you think I am – that's fine with me. Just pay me and I'll go."

He came down the steps after her as she set down her wares on one of the outside tables, he started to fish out his wallet when he stopped for a moment.

"Why don't you stay for breakfast, I'll fix you something. I can call off the help for awhile and we can have some scrambled, bacon rations and tea."

"Fine, I'll just take my stuff elsewhere today!" She snarled and was ready to gather up her crate when Bert laid a hand on her arm.

"Stop for a minute, will ya, I can't keep up! All I'm asking is one little breakfast with yours truly and then if you want, you never have to see me again – well, at least until next week when you come by with more fruits and veggies."

She gave him a look of defeat.

"Alright Bert, I'll give you one more chance."

"That a girl!" He sang and kissed her hand. "It'll be the best breakfast you've ever ate!"

What he failed to notice as he charged back to the restaurant front doors was the faint smile on Joan's lips.

(That night, around 11:00. Martin had asked Pauline to keep an eye out for him so she could let him in. What she didn't expect was the way he was to arrive):

The road down to Bert's restaurant was quiet with only the odd skunk or cat ambling across the laneway.

So it looked as slightly bizarre to see a man in the mid August night walking down along the bushes, a large coat over his shoulders, a suitcase tucked under his arm and a big-brimmed fedora low over his eyes skulking down street.

Pauline was gazing out the back window when she spotted him. For a moment, she had to look twice as she saw him silhouetted in the moonlight. She had seen some strange things in her life, but this took the cake.

"Martin!" She whispered loudly, trying to get his attention.

He looked up over the hedge as he heard her voice. "Shh! Be quiet! I don't want anyone to spot me!"

"Oh for the love of God! What are you doin'? You'd think I was your mistress the way you're acting. Will you just get up here!" She finally said, her voice loud and clear.

But, he refused to come easily as he still sought the safety of several nearby bushes.

Until, he felt someone grabbing his arm.

Gasping in surprise, he glanced down to see it was Pauline.

"Don't do that!" He hissed.

"Will you relax! It's just me, come on, let's go inside – I'll make you some tea to calm your nerves."

"Won't Bert see us?" He asked, looking nervous.

"Were you this way when you were dating Louisa?"

"I'm trying to keep this discreet."

"By looking like you're in an episode of The X-Files?" She cried. "You're just stayin' over for the night, if I see little green men – I'll have you pretend you're Mulder and you can sic them for me."

"Very funny!"

She led him inside.

After a few moments of a calm tea and plate of day old biscuits, Martin relaxed considerably. But, he still seemed unsure as he mounted the steps up to Pauline's bedroom. It had been a long time since he'd entered a woman's place. It felt reminiscent a bit, but he tried hard to keep focused and the here and now.

He looked cautiously across the hall at the top of the stairs and stopped to stare at the closed door at the end of it.

"Bert doesn't sleep up here, he has a bedroom off the main floor. We're quite safe, Mulder."

"Will you stop calling me that!"

She just grinned and put her arm around him as she took his bag from him. Opening her door, she let him inside and closed it behind her.

"Well, here it is."

He glanced around and was amazed, it was a lot bigger than he was expecting. The light blue paint on the walls were starting to peel showing its age, but there was a deep rosewood armoire on one side of the room next to a large bay window with an overstuffed armchair, and an iron-cast bed covered in pastel quilts in the middle of the room. Along one side of the room were large closets and a bureau in the corner with a small LCD TV on top of it next to her iPod dock. There were clothes lining the floor and other stuff he couldn't distinguish. She looked like she had the startings of what appeared like a sewing project draped over a rocking chair in the corner near the door. The room actually smelled like her with perfumes on the dresser tucked behind the TV, he also noticed a few lotto cards. He was impressed, it was actually a lovely, warm and inviting room. Cozy.

"I thought you had given those up?" He said, making comment about her gambling obsession of a year or so ago.

"Those are to remind me not to start up again, sort of like your jeans."

"Uh huh," he answered, not entirely convinced.

She placed his suitcase behind the rocking chair and helped him off with his coat.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Do I get a kiss for that?" She asked, grinning up at him.

"I'll think about it…" he muttered and started to walk away.

She gave him the bird and stalked off, before he grabbed her arm and bent down to kiss her, lightly.

"I'll just get changed in your lavatory, where is it?"

"Oh…"

"What? You don't have it indoors?" He quipped.

She leaned over the end of her bed's railing and gave him a snarky laugh.

"I thought maybe tonight you could – you know, go without."

"Using the lavatory?" He asked, appalled.

"No – going without pajamas."

Ignoring her, he opened the door while muttering. "Fine, I'll find it myself."

As soon as he did, he heard someone humming in the hallway and he quickly came back in.

"What's wrong?" Pauline asked.

"Bert's out there!"

She shrugged and played with her quilt. "Oh well, you're snookered then, he spends hours in there!"

"What?" He asked, appalled. "Something he no doubt will come to me for."

"Just get undressed and get into bed, stop being silly!"

"I am not getting undressed in front of you!"

"Alright, I'll crawl in under the covers and hide my eyes."

"I don't trust you!"

"Oh come on, Martin, it's approaching midnight, I want to get some sleep!" Pauline moaned as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Very well, but turn around and face the wall."

"God, such a baby!" She whined, her voice cracking a bit.

"Pauline!"

"Yeah, yeah!"

Turning around, she stared blankly at the wall. He kept his eyes trained on her as he began to undo his jacket and throw it over the rocking chair. Then he began to undo his tie and shirt. He stopped every once in awhile to see if Pauline was watching him, but she wasn't and felt safe to continue.

What he didn't realize was that on the bureau next to her bed there was a large mirror on top with her large, colorful beaded jewelry. She glanced occasionally into it to watch him unseen.

She smiled a bit, and felt the blush rise in her cheeks as he began to undo the belt in his pants. One leg at a time, he got out of them and then laid them with his garments over the chair again. Then, he wiggled out of his undershirt and finally reached down for his grey boxers, they looked finely made.

'Figures!' She thought.

As he rolled the boxers down his legs, he turned briefly to place them on the chair.

Pauline's smile got bigger as she observed his pale buttocks when he mooned her slightly, there was a line where his skin changed color – he needed to lay in the sun in the nude to tan that area, she mused. The idea caused her to chuckle.

"Nice bum!" She said at last.

He turned around in shock, and it was then she got quite the eyeful before he placed his large hand modestly over his privates.

"Pauline! You little liar! You – how…?"

Then he noticed the mirror.

"Close your eyes!" He shouted.

"No!' She said, simply.

"Bert is in the lavatory – I demand you shut your eyes!"

"No, I like seeing your little tushy all pale and shining in the light. It's kind of cute!"

"Pauline!"

"It's my room now, if I want to look at your bum, I will! Let's see the rest of you, eh! Flash us the big one again!"

"No! Stop it! You saw – I – you conniving, little…!"

She giggled and it was then they heard the door to the washroom in the hall open, the sound of humming and Bert disappear.

Martin gave Pauline a dirty look and then he backed along the wall, still covering himself as he fumbled for the door, never turning until he managed to get outside after grabbing his pajamas from his suitcase. It was quite a feat and he had to bend over a bit as he did, flashing his backside momentarily to Pauline who turned to see him fully and whistle.

"Shut up!' He roared and vanished.

About a half an hour later, he came back in the room – sour and not even sure what to do anymore. He wanted to grab his things and leave entirely, but it was too late for that now and so he resolved to stay.

When he did, he didn't expect to see Pauline starting to wiggle out of her skirt so that she was topless and standing by the bed.

"Ahh…what are you doing?" He asked, covering his eyes.

She looked up and rolled her eyes.

"Now what's the problem? I'm getting dressed, you were in the loo – so I got changed in here. You didn't bother to knock you know! I always get changed in my room! Besides of which – you've already seen my breasts – I don't know what the big deal is?"

He complains "I haven't seen what is – below – those!"

She groans.

"You're a doc!"

"Yes and?"

"Grow some!"

"I beg your pardon, Pauline – put on your clothes!"

"No, it's my room – deal with it!"

She continues to take off her skirt in front of him, so he tries to steady his shaking as he slowly turns to face the wall. But, then he realizes he's being foolish. He was a man of 48 as she pointedly laughed about earlier and he was willingly sharing her room, why shouldn't he watch her undress.

Slowly he turned and then looked at her, his face turning bright red as he swallowed his fear and sat down in the rocking chair.

It made a squeak. She looked up, and smiled as he saw her take note of him casually as she reached up to undo her hair so that it fell down around her shoulders. She didn't seem the least bit embarrassed of her body.

"You OK with the nude thing now?" She asked.

"Ahh…I'm working on it," he said, stuffily as he gulped a bit.

He tried crossing his legs to hide something obvious in his lap, but Pauline smirked as she noticed.

She was radiant as the light cast shadows across her ivory skin, it fairly glowed. Her small, high breasts raised a bit as she brushed her hair, freckles danced across her impeccable skin. Her tummy had a slight roundness that he liked as she was curvaceous and not ashamed of being so. Her full, shapely buttocks with the dimples above each cheek led down to her lovely legs that he had to admit he admired at times when walking through the clinic in her little, calf-skin boots. As she turned, he caught sight of the wealth of dark hair nestled between her thighs that in the lamplight looked slightly amber in tint.

But, as he continued to watch her, he lifted his chin a bit as his shameful stares were replaced by quiet awe and it was then he noticed it – she was quite beautiful.

He wanted to get up at that moment, walk over to her and take her into his arms, but the idea was suddenly dashed as she dawned a nightgown and crawled into bed.

"Ready!' She sang and hunkered down.

He got up and crossed the room to join her, turning off the light.


	8. Chapter 8

**NOTE: This section is the part many have been waiting for – it's quite racy in moments, but I still tried to make it tasteful. I hope you like it, more to come.**

That night, as they slept, the room became a bit stuffy as the summer heat from inside began to fill the room. Bert always had the habit of taking late night showers to help him sleep, no doubt because of back pain and tonight was no exception.

Pauline was unable to rest as the stale air made her lips and mouth feel dry.

She woke up next to Martin, who was still completely out of it and resting on his side near her in the bed. She could just make out the shape of him like a shadowy form against her nearby window. She knew if she got up to open it, no doubt she'd wake him.

Instead, she just lay there in frustration and watched him silently.

She saw him breathing, could smell of the soap he used on his skin which tickled her nose, and felt his warmth beside her, noting the wonderful size of his shoulders and waist reminded her how long it had been since there was a man in her bed. The thought sent a little shiver up her spine.

Now the heat wasn't coming from the room, she decided, it was from her.

She had been squirming before but now she knew she was going to go crazy as she was dying to relieve the sexual tension building up inside of her.

Damn Bert and his long bath, she knew she wouldn't be able to escape to the bathroom undetected.

The tickle between her legs was starting to grow as she unconsciously rubbed her thighs together to feel a lovely little friction.

Couldn't she just wake him? Just nudge him a little…

He'd only object! Yet – he was here – here in her bed, looking and feeling so good.

"God!" She sighed quietly under breath. She was starting to go nuts, feeling like a trapped cat in a box.

Despite her best efforts, she began to hum a bit and wriggle around uncomfortably in bed before she realized she might wake him and stopped herself.

What she failed to notice was that it had woken Martin, who didn't move a muscle as he opened his eyes a bit in irritation, thinking it was Louisa all over again. No doubt, she'd be hogging the blankets next and would start snoring any moment. Then there was that restless leg thing she always did.

He watched Pauline in the dark a bit, but didn't say a word. He could tell by her actions and totally ignorance of him as she fidgeted a bit more that she didn't know he was looking at her.

Then, she did the one thing he'd never dream in a million years.

In the silence and warmth of the room, she threw aside the bare sheet that was covering her and very slowly, she began to lift the bottom of her nightgown above her waist.

He knew right away what she was doing and almost gasped, but held his breath instead.

Watching he saw her hand move with it's own volition down her ribcage, along her tummy and bellybutton until it finally reached it's final destination between her legs as a few fingers vanished beneath the darkened hair that curled around her knuckles. The effect was immediate on Pauline who let out a tiny cry, a brief giggle and raised her hips up off the bed.

Martin could feel a bead of sweat coast down his forehead as he couldn't tear his eyes away from her little display, he had to bite down on his lower lip to keep from making any sounds himself even as his breath quickened. He felt both ashamed to be observing her this way and more than a little turned on. That's when he felt a pulsing in his own groin and he could feel his body reacting on its own. There was no denying how he felt any longer.

There was something so beautiful in seeing her like this, free and enjoying her own body. The shame he felt moments earlier now vanished.

She popped a few buttons loose on the top of her camisole and reached in with her hand to expose her breast, as she pawed heavily on it in her palm, her nipple rising under her own touch.

Pauline gasped again.

In fear, she looked over into Martin's eyes.

He froze, sure that she saw him and would no doubt be angry.

But, instead her gaze was unfocussed and she quickly glanced away. Either she knew he was staring at her and didn't care or his face wasn't visible to her in the dark. It really didn't matter any more.

He was tired of playing games, tired of pretending he didn't want her that way…

Very quietly, he lifted his hand and softly reached down along the bed until he covered her fingers with his.

Pauline jumped at the sudden touch and looked over at him. Though she couldn't really make out his face, she knew that he had seen everything.

His touch was like a bolt of electricity. She could feel his large fingers curled around either side inside the folds of her sex so that he was starting to stroke her clitoris. Now she moaned and squirmed uncontrollably. Gradually his face became visible to her as he inched closer. She arched herself up a bit off the bed, grasping his arm and hand that was still busy between her legs.

He looked down at her, her back bowing and pressing against his forearm, it was incredibly erotic. He could see her face, her eyes closed and from the very faint but soft light coming in through the window, he could make out the deep blush coming over her throat and neck. Medically he observed that it was a reaction to her heightened sexual awareness. Sometimes, his skills of observation came in handy, he mused.

Lifting himself up slightly on his elbow, the one that was free that is, while all the while stroking her deeply so that he could feel his fingers coated with her excitement, he buried one and then two fingers to the knuckle inside of her and began to kneed her slowly deep within.

Then, he captured her lips with his. Pauline's mouth separated and their tongues met as she groaned so that he could feel her voice vibrating in his throat a bit. He breathed heavily into her cheek as they kissed deeply.

Suddenly, he could feel the clumsy flutter of her hand against his chest and stomach, sensing she was starting to travel downwards. He gasped a bit, as he felt her featherlight touch against his already obvious erection pressed to his silk boxers.

Pulling back the elastic band, her hand went below the belt so that she immediately grasped the satiny feel of his length against her palm

Breaking free for a moment, he buried his face in her throat and shoulder.

"Oh…oh damn!" He moaned, lowly as he shuddered a bit at her touch.

She didn't need permission to carry on as she began to coast her fingers in a fist up and down his satiny shaft, feeling him growing inside of her hand. She roved her fingers over the tip of him and then down again along the sides, lightly tickling his scrotum.

He was helpless against her as he began to whimper a bit at her expert control over him. All the while he was thumbing her tiny trembling pearl, at the same time delving in and out of her with a quickening speed.

His face traveled down a little until at last he placed his lips over her nipple.

"Oh yeah! That's it!" Pauline screamed.

For a brief second and only for a second – he feared that Bert would discover what they were up to. But, he didn't care anymore and dismissed the thought – he probably thought they'd already gotten to this point long before now anyhow.

Pauline put her spare arm around his shoulders, digging her finger hungrily under the collar of his shirt to feel his hot skin flush against her hand. She began to kiss and bite lightly on his neck and shoulder as he continued to suck on her nipple, teasing it with his teeth as well and licking at it until she was crying out in mercy against him.

Soon their rhythm picked up and they were nearly in sync with one another.

Just as he knew she was about ready to climax, he managed to suddenly pull his hand free from her and gently he pushed her own hand away from him.

She looked at him disappointed.

"What's wrong?" She cried out, afraid he'd had second thoughts – it was her worst fear. She didn't want this to stop.

"Nothing, if we are to have sexual intercourse – you have to undress, your clothes are in the way."

She loved how straightforward he could be at times. Though she admitted the cool doctor's medical terminology wasn't the sexiest, it still turned her on as she was reminded of just who she was sharing her bed with.

For a moment, she stopped and looked into his soft, slate gray eyes and thought how far they had come. She'd always had her own special place in her heart for the doctor, even if he wasn't the warmest and most charming of people – she felt she understood him, was at his side when others weren't, knew what he put up with in town from the slightly ignorant people and felt an empathy for him. Out of that empathy, protectiveness and understanding bred love – a love she wasn't expecting but now welcomed. A love she hadn't even experienced as deeply with Al. The thought suddenly took her by surprise, and before she realized it – she was crying next to him.

"Pauline?" He asked, in concern, rolling close to her to touch her face softly. "What is it? Is it too soon? Am I being too forceful?"

"No, no – it's not that. I just realized, I said the words before and I didn't know how much they mattered."

"What are you talking about? You've lost me."

He furrowed his brow in confusion, she always had a habit of talking in circles.

"I mean, I never knew how much I'm in love with you until now, you're here with me and it's – ," she whispered and then covered her eyes as she cried even harder.

Martin was speechless, he certainly wasn't expecting it – but his own eyes started to well up and he couldn't help but smile softly at her.

She looked up to see why he wasn't saying anything to notice he was…

"Ahh…you blubber like me," she giggled, still a bit teary.

"No, it's merely something foreign in the air that got trapped in my eye causing a mild irritation – nothing more," he muttered, trying to pass it off.

She wasn't buying it. Crawling in closer, she took his face between her small hands and gently kissed his cheekbones, then as his eyes closed at her tender touch – she kissed his eyelids and wiped his tears away with her lips.

"You big softy," she whispered into his ear and put her arms around his neck so that she laid his head down on her breast. She ruffled his soft hair a bit with her fingers.

He just sighed and hugged her in return, kissing her bared breast momentarily before closing his eyes once more.

"At this rate I might even start liking your friend," he grumbled.

This just made Pauline laugh. "Sarah's a good soul."

"Yes, she's fine," he admitted.

He was quiet then for a few minutes and it turned into several to the point of thinking he possibly had fallen asleep against her.

"Martin?"

Finally he spoke. "I'm just remembering when you started working for me."

She lay back and sighed. "Seems ages ago."

"Thank you for not going back to Newlyn," he whispered. "Even when I gave you every reason to."

"You always knew I wasn't goin' anywhere," she said as he got up and rested against her. She could feel his weight as he looked upon her, but she didn't mind. She instead put her hand on his shoulder and massaged it a little bit.

"No, actually – I didn't. But, I could never figure why," he confessed, his expression softened and for a moment he looked incredibly vulnerable.

"Maybe because I started having those feelings years ago even before I knew what they were. Now I do."

She nearly started crying again, this time he reached down to stroke the tears from her lovely, blue-green eyes that reminded him so much of the sea. Such pure innocence in a way – like a child.

Bending down, he kissed her soft lips with his and took her cheek in his hand as he caressed it gently.

"I love you, Pauline – I want us to make love," he said as he drew away.

"So do I – so what are you waitin' for, doc? An engraved invitation?"

"Yes, if it's not too much to ask."

She started to giggle, she'd never heard him being so flippant or so easy about it without a hint of malice. He was actually teasing her. She could get used to this.

He grinned at her.

"What say we get out of these pesky clothes?" She replied, simply.

"Yes, I think given the circumstances – that would be appropriate," he answered, dryly.

Rolling away from her, he urged her to kneel in front of him and he did the same. She reached over with little urging to remove his T-shirt he normally wore up over his head and now she could clearly make him out in the moonlight, his strong upper torso sent a little ripple of anticipation through her, she reached out to stroke his skin and heard a sharp intake of breath from him, knowing the effect she was having on him. She could see the sheen of sweat on his skin from the heat of the room.

He noticed her hair was growing damp as well.

"I love your body!" She cooed, spontaneously.

He looked shocked. "You do?"

"Yes, I do!"

"It must be the heat affecting your brain!" He replied, looking slightly embarrassed.

She just ignored him and leaned forward to run her finger over his breast and down along his body. As she did, she led her lips slowly down the middle of his breastbone to his rib cage, enjoying the softness of his skin as she kissed his belly for a moment.

He closed his eyes and felt light-headed when she drew away.

"Must be," she whispered as she glanced up at him.

Then, she slowly reached down to touch the elastic lining of his pajama bottoms, she seemed to hesitate. He brought his hand over hers and helped her, feeling confident now as pushed down the pajama bottoms, lifting one leg and then the other as he slipped out of them and threw them to the floor.

Now he was naked before her. It was obvious that he was growing excited as her eyes cast downwards to see it curling up against his lower belly. It was a lot larger than she thought even though she'd been touching it. The crown of his sex trembled a bit at her ardent glare and the shaft barely wavered as she petted it lightly in curiosity.

As she did, there was a loud groan of approval from Martin.

She reached under to tickle his scrotum a bit and then back up again.

But, he slowed down her tempo slightly as he reached out to stroke one of her breasts peeking out from her unbuttoned camisole. Then, he lifted the bottom of her gown up a bit, attempting to bring it up over her head.

She helped him along, as she raised her arms and he pulled it free from her so that she sat naked as he was before him. Her skin glowed in the pale light of the room and her copper curls embraced her shoulders as he admired her body with his hand. Stroking down over her breasts, to her belly and to tickle the hair peeking out between her thighs.

Suddenly, she began to laugh aloud.

He looked a little put out by her reaction.

So he tried to touch her again and once more she started to laugh loudly.

"It's not funny!" He snarled, and stopped touching her. Damn her for making fun of him.

"Yes it is -"

"Apparently," he said and sat away from her a bit, looking offended.

"No, I'm not laughin' at you, doc, honestly! I'm ticklish – I've been that way since a kid. When anyone touches my thighs, I start giggling."

"Really?" He asked, looking relieved and curious at the same time.

"Yeah, it's embarrassing – I'm like that every time I've had sex."

He just looked at her quizzically and touched her once more and again she broke into a laugh.

"Shhh!" He whispered, afraid Bert might hear them.

"I can't help it, I'm sorry!" She apologized. "I'll try to control myself."

"Not too much, I hope," he confessed and then a wild blush came across his face, so deep she could even see it.

"Aren't we the sexy one!" She teased.

In retaliation for her cute little remark, he began to tickle her thighs again.

"No, c'mon! Stop!' She begged for mercy, but he just did it again to spurn her on.

This time she tried to stifle it and it came out as a snort. So he did it again and she broke down in helpless giggles back on the bed.

"I love your laugh!" He finally admitted.

"Ahh…doc!" She said and held out her arms to him still kneeling above her.

He pretended to go into her embrace, but then ducked past her arms and instead started to move his head down so that he began to kiss a trail with his lips between each of her breasts, stopping to kiss her nipples, over her warm tummy to her thighs, as she giggled again and then he reached down with his hands to divide her legs as he laid between them.

At first, he nuzzled her inner thigh and she threw back her head, laughing so hard tears formed in her eyes – but now they were from joy. She begged him to stop tickling her, so he did something else instead as she felt his fingers separate the humid folds of her sex and his lips find their way between them.

Suddenly, she was no longer laughing as she pressed her head back into her pillow and moaned low in pleasure.

Reaching down with her hands, she placed them on either side of his head that she could feel undulating as he kissed her deeply with his mouth and tongue.

She felt like she was floating way up to the ceiling as the feeling was indescribable.

For several minutes he tenderly consumed her.

He loved the smell of her, the feel of her, feeling her surrounding him as he literally breathed her in. He could feel her body begin to tremble uncontrollably beneath him. She began to lift her buttocks off the bed to meet him half way.

He knew then that she was ready, and so he lifted his face from her.

Getting up slightly, he crawled along so that finally he rested against her once more, but he made sure that her legs were now firmly on either side of his waist. She could feel him pressing clumsily against her thigh.

He hesitated. "Do you have – protection?"

"Yeah, I think so…" she said, rather breathlessly.

Fumbling around on the end table beside her bed, she reached in the tiny drawer in front of it. She managed to find a little foil-wrapped condom and held it out to him.

"Have to be prepared!" She announced, proudly as she ripped it open with her teeth. It was rather unglamorous, but it did the job.

"When you were with…" he began to say, but she stopped him.

"No, I got rid of those things when he left. I just bought these recently."

"Oh," Martin replied. And then he thought about it for a moment. "Oh!"

"Yeah – oh!" Pauline replied, grinning up at him.

"Rather confident of you."

"Yeah, it is! And, look where you are."

"Point taken," he snarled a bit.

She just grinned, he didn't need to look into her face to tell she was.

"Want me to help you on with it?" She asked, looking eager to test it out.

"No, that's fine – I can do it."

She sat quietly and watched him fiddling with it in the dark, there was a little grunt from him when he finally announced.

"There."

"Ready?"

"Yes."

"Let's do this thing!" Pauline said, exuberantly.

"Pauline, can't we have a little sense of decency for the moment? That's hardly setting the mood!" He complained.

'Oh here we go!' She thought to herself. 'Not now!'

"But, we're about to have sex."

He stopped and looked down into her face. Then he smiled at her as the realization struck him.

"Yes, we are."

"Come here!" She whispered and now he went down into her arms.

Moving his face away from her, he grasped her buttocks in both his hands and lifted her waist to his kneeling waist level. He wasted no time…

Slowly, she could feel him pierce her sex and in one smooth movement – he thrust himself deep within her, her whole body wrapped literally around him.

They began to move together in a remarkable dance as she felt him fill her up inside, she could feel him throbbing against her warmth. She closed her eyes tightly and freed herself as she reached up to grasp his sweaty, rippling body in her arms.

He was breathing heavily into her damp hair as they began to grunt together and could feel the impending climax. A audibly loud clapping sound filled the air as well as obscene cries of pleasure as their sexes melted into one another.

He began to move faster and faster, the pain she felt by his movements were replaced by an insistent need for more and more.

Pauline suddenly looked up as a wave washed over her, she could see his face contort and knew it was upon him too.

Screaming out, they clutched madly for one another as their bodies shook uncontrollably, as the bed began to pound somewhat against the wall of her room. He began to whimper plaintively as he felt a rush come over him. He shuddered against her and then finally as he screamed out loud one last time – he collapsed and broke free. Exhausted he fell into her and shut his eyes. She smiled, as she wrapped her legs around his back and held him close.

"God, Pauline!" He sighed, clearly out of breath.

"That was amazing!" Pauline cried in disbelief as she stared up blankly at the ceiling.


	9. Chapter 9

She just looked over at him, and then he glanced up at her. There was a definite glimmer in her eye as she said.

"Want to do it again?" She cried, excitedly.

"Are you serious? I haven't even caught my breath yet!" He complained, looking rather haggard.

"Then you let me take care of things!" She purred, and with that she lifted the blanket over their waists and began tunneling underneath.

Soon his eyes grew big as he could feel her and knew what she was up to. Then, they rolled back in his head as he moaned in pleasure.

(Early the next morning):

The sun hadn't even risen in the sky yet when Pauline could feel Martin nudging her with his hand.

"Are you asleep?" He murmured in her ear.

She opened her eyes and blinked in the near darkness of the room. There was barely any light from outside over the nearby hills.

He was nestled in close to her, so his head was resting on her shoulder as she slept on her side, his arm possessively around her waist – it felt rather nice and cozy.

"I am now," she growled. "Martin, what time is it?"

"I'm not sure, I just don't want a repeat of the last time when we missed the clinic opening."

Pauline looked up at her alarm clock and groaned. "It's 5:00 AM, I don't think we have much to worry about – it doesn't open for another four hours!"

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "You can't sleep, can you? You just needed company."

"Nonsense!" He grumbled.

She cracked a smile.

"You're like a kid on Christmas morning, you can't wait to get into the goodies. You can get into mine if you're nice."

His eyes grew big as she watched him.

"Is that all you ever think about?" He answered her and sighed.

"Well, excuse me, I'm still enjoying the afterglow of us finally having sex and just in case you change your mind later."

"I guess, we have some time to kill after all," he moaned and started to move back as he made an effort to adjust himself a bit.

"Forget it – I'm not in the mood anymore," she teased.

"Pauline!" Martin growled.

She smiled and threw the blanket over both their heads, soon their bodies are seen moving underneath and suddenly her infectious laughter is heard from below.

(Later that morning):

Pauline slept in a bit when she heard some movement from across the room.

Glancing up from her pillow, she saw Martin getting ready for the day, a little earlier than necessary – no doubt to sneak out before being detected by locals as he went to the clinic for the day.

He was sitting in Pauline's rocker and lacing up his shoes.

As he did, he seemed to become distracted by something sitting on some boxes nearby.

They were random photos that she'd been meaning to add to one of her photo albums, but never seemed to have the time to do so.

Picking up one of them, she saw him look at it in fascination and then actually crack a smile.

As he turned it over in his hand to look at the back, she could make out that it was the caricature mural that PC Penhale's brother had done of her on the clinic's wall – that was before Martin himself had painted over it!

Without hesitation, she watched him slip it into the breast pocket of his jacket.

'What a thief!' She thought at first, but as she continued to ponder it. 'What a sweetie!'

She smiled to herself and closed her eyes to go back to sleep, when she heard his footsteps approaching the bed.

Still keeping her eyes tightly shut but dropping her grin, she could feel the bed move a little as bending over he softly kissed her cheek.

Staying absolutely still, she waited until she heard the door to her room softly close before she opened her eyes again and her face blushed. Her smile was soft.

"I love you too," she whispered and managed to finally drift back to sleep.

Downstairs, Martin looked around as he arrived on the bottom step of the landing to see if he was indeed alone – the coast was clear.

Quietly walking through the low-ceilinged house, he made a bee-line into the living room seeing as it was a shortcut, as he did, his patent leather shoes created a loud creak on the floorboards.

Grimacing, he tried to lift his feet a bit, but it was too late.

"Morning Doc! Sleep well? Hopefully you didn't get any sleep at all, if you catch my drift…" came Bert's voice from the doorway.

Martin jumped around to catch him glowering at him with a big grin on his face, dressed only in a nightshirt, boxers and an old dressing gown.

He held up a cup he held in his hand.

"Would you like me to fix you a spot of tea and an muffin before you head into work for the day? Won't take a minute!"

It was like his worst fear had become reality, the obvious had finally caught up with him and his reputation would be mud now in Portwenn – soon half the village would know via a certain Mr. Large.

Turning on his heel without responding, he tried to make a quick dash for the door. As he entered the front hallway – things only went from bad to worse…

"Bert, where do you keep the sugar?" Cried out a familiar voice.

As he looked up, he was face to face with his Aunt Joan, who stood before him in nothing but a nightgown and a robe – which was obviously too big for her – he had little doubt who she'd borrowed it from.

"Martin!" Joan exclaimed, as if she was the cat caught holding the canary. Her face was immediately blush.

"I – uh – um…" Martin stuttered and ran for the door, nearly banging into the door itself as he opened it on his foot and then he scrambled outside.

It took him no time that morning to arrive at the cottage at the top of the hill, as he ran the whole way.

Only then did he notice as he started the day and caught his breath – his shoes didn't match.

(That afternoon):

Pauline arrived much later than her usual time that morning, but as she entered, Martin was no where to be found and the patients due to see him were already in his office.

She shrugged and settled in for the day, looking over some lab reqs and other mail on her desk.

Eventually Martin came out of the office, but as he came over to the filing cabinet, he kept his eyes averted and refused to even look at Pauline, even though she was smiling up at him.

"Who's the next patient?" He snarled impatiently as he continued to thumb absently through some files.

"Mrs. Pollack," Pauline replied, dispassionately. "MRS. POLLACK!"

As he searched vainly for his file, he felt her suddenly hit his arm with it. He looked down finally at her in insult, his brow low and his expression snarly.

She just gave him a nasty look in return.

She had no idea what she'd done wrong this time, but considering they had just made love the previous night – she hoped he wouldn't treat her as he did normally. But, she knew that was expecting too much – but in the very least, he could treat her as if she weren't totally invisible to him.

Stalking back to his office with poor, little Mrs. Pollack following meekly behind him – he slammed the door.

Pauline immediately reached for her phone and dialed up a number that she was starting to become familiar with.

"Hi Sarah, if you get this message – can you call me? I was wondering if we could meet up for lunch or somethin'? I need someone to talk to. Thanks."

After the next patient had come and gone, Pauline decided she needed to talk to Martin in private. But instead, he agreed to take a last minute patient who arrived impromptu in the clinic, something he rarely did without an appointment. It was clear that he was stonewalling her.

In frustration, she waited until he entered his office and then she gathered up her coat and left without saying a word.

By the time Martin finished with the patient, he came out to ask Pauline something when he noticed she'd already left for the day.

Angrily, he locked the door and decided to track her down.

He didn't have to look far as at the bottom of the hill he encountered her talking to Sarah.

"What has gotten into you?" He shouted as he strode up to the pair and interrupted their conversation. "Since when do you leave the clinic at the end of the day without telling me and forget to lock the door? I had to do it myself!"

Pauline just ignored him and took a sip of a cup of lemonade she held in her hands as she sat along the wall near the school. It was eerily familiar to Martin, how many arguments had he had here before – and now it looked like he had another to add to his roster.

Sarah looked up at the doctor, numbly taking in his countenance.

"Afternoon, doctor," she answered, trying to sound calm and polite.

But, he took no notice of her. She grimaced a bit and felt like she was sort of stuck in the middle, which she basically was.

"It's highly unprofessional, rude and…" he began to shout once more at Pauline when she finally looked up at him.

"Go away!" She snarled and took another sip of her drink.

"I will not 'go away'! I am still your employer and we need to discuss the practicalities of your continued work performance in the clinic!" He replied, his anger rising in his tone, he began to pace impatiently in front of her.

"You know what I'd like to know," Pauline said. "I'd like to know how you can go about your day, totally treating me like nothing and acting like I don't exist? Eh? Tell me that one! I'd really love to know! I tried to smile at you this morning and you gave me a look as if I was dead to you!"

"I did nothing of the sort! It's an office, we work together and have to retain a working relationship!"

"Well, in that case – maybe I should just quit!" She yelled back and looked ready to take her drink and dump it over his head.

Sarah sat up, realizing things were getting pretty heated. She began to cough behind the medical mask she still wore.

Martin looked up at her. "You should be at home resting!"

"I don't have a home and I'm fine, thank you. Come on folks, let's just talk about this. Maybe we should…"

Both Martin and Pauline gave Sarah a dirty look. She put up her hands.

"Or not. Nevermind…"

So seeing as she was not saying anything, he proceeded.

"No doubt what happened between us last night was nothing more than a chemical reaction given your time of the month. It's a natural thing for women in the pre-menstrual state…"

Now Sarah's chocolate eyes grew big in shock as she listened to the doctor in disbelief. Pauline on the other hand was starting to grip the lemonade tighter in her hand and trying hard to stare at the wall and avoid looking at him.

"To give in to hormonal urges. The heightened sense of awareness, the emotional volatility and the loss of objectivity is a well known medical fact. Moreover, the full on menses can cause the male in the relationship to also sense the woman's nature and respond to it."

Pauline still wasn't reacting and her friend was growing concerned as her eyes were starting to darken a bit and the look on her face was one of pure rage.

"Though given the pitch of your voice, possibly the onset of your menses was late in age. Usually, though the male's voice will deepen with time in relation to the female – who obviously for you, stayed high in nature."

"Martin, this doesn't have any medical merit," Sarah finally spoke up, feeling she had to say something.

"Actually it does," he went on, "So you see – given what happened last night…"

He was about to prattle on with more medical jargon when Pauline finally had enough.

Getting up off the wall she was sitting on, she walked up to him and was fully ready to tell him off. But, as she did, her plans were crumbled when she looked into Martin's frightened eyes and knew she couldn't do it. Something deep down inside her told her that the things he was saying he didn't mean – she didn't know why, but she couldn't do it.

"It's because I'm not her, isn't it?" she finally whispered, honestly. Her eyes could no longer hide her tears.

Martin looked stunned and just stared at her, unsure how to respond.

Turning on her heel, she ran off down the lane, past some startled onlookers.

Sarah tried to say something to Martin, trying to sound sympathetic, but finally she ran off after her friend.

He just stood there watching them run off, and he knew – how much he'd really hurt her. Closing his eyes, he sighed and lifted his face skyward. Why did he do it? Why couldn't he just tell her it wasn't true?

"Pauline! Pauline! Wait!" Sarah yelled as she finally caught up with her friend at the bottom of the hill near The Crow's Nest. She took her arm and turned her around to face her. "Come on – talk to me! Please. Why don't you come up to my room, I'll get us something to drink, OK – just for a bit?"

Pauline was embracing herself and starting to pace in much the same manner as Martin had earlier, she was trying to disguise her tears but now anger was replacing her mood.

"Why? No matter what I do, it's never good enough!" She growled and didn't seem to be focusing on Sarah at all, but rather talking to herself.

"Come upstairs, Paul – please."

Finally, she noticed her and followed her friend up to her room.

A few minutes later, Sarah sat up in the little room off the pub downstairs and she had two glasses of sherry with her. Pauline was sitting on the edge of her bed, playing with the comforter.

"Sorry, I asked for beer, but the barkeep was on break so the waitress gave me this instead. Hope that's OK?"

"Fine," Pauline grumbled as she took the drink from her.

Sarah sat next to her and patted her lap.

"You feeling better?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," she said, rather unemotionally.

"So what happened back there? I mean, what brought all this on?"

"Well, you'll have to ask him – I have no idea! We've been staying overnight with each other for a week and then finally, last night we had sex and now he's acting like I'm some sort of medical study to him!"

Sarah just grimaced and nodded. "You know what he's doing? He's deflecting – that wasn't about you. I've seen that sort of thing before. He's just scared to admit what he feels – so he's pushing it away from him."

"You a doctor, or somethin'?" Pauline snarled, giving her a dirty look.

Sarah just smiled. "Actually I'm two months away from being a full fledged one."

Pauline's eyes grew big, happy for the pleasant distraction for a moment. "Are you serious? You're a doctor?"

"Almost a doctor," Sarah corrected. "I'm on my practicum right now."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't find the opportunity. Besides, I've been sick with this stupid thing I have."

Pauline looked away and her mind was back on the matter at hand as she sipped her drink.

"Paul, this whole thing with Martin – it's been happening pretty fast. What – like it's only been about a few weeks now, I mean – you're with him when you work, you're with him after work and you share his bed…"

She looked up at Sarah. "What are you sayin'? I'm smothering him? Is that it?"

"No, but – alright, who instigates much of the romance in your relationship?" Sarah said, trying a different tact.

"I do."

"See – why don't you let him come to you, give him some space and let him pursue you."

Pauline just laughed out loud. "Oh yeah, right – there's a good idea! I'll just let him follow me around like a lovesick puppy – that will never happen!"

"You don't want that anyhow, do you?"

She looked down in her lap. "I don't know what I want."

"Yeah, you do. You want him to start opening up to you more, don't you."

"Sort of. I mean, he has but then he just shuts down again. I know why he doesn't tell me more anyway."

"That comment you made before…what did you mean?" Sarah bravely asked.

She watched as the tears form in the corner of her eyes. She put her hand over Pauline's.

"I'm not classy like her," Pauline muttered. "Not as pretty."

"Of course you're pretty. What are you talking about? Who was she?"

"Louisa Glasson. He came to Portwenn a few years ago and I guess she was instrumental in getting him in as a GP here. I didn't know him back then when they started going out, my cousin was the receptionist at the time. I came later when she left. She was beautiful, I mean really beautiful and eventually become headmistress at the local school. They always fought but he always had this big blind spot for her, you could tell – she effected him. They were going to marry, and then she left him – she ended up going to Moffats to work there. He is still hurting inside, I can tell. I was an idiot for thinking he cared about me that way, he just needed something in bed to keep him warm – that's all."

Pauline began to cry and in anger quickly wiped her tears away, she was determined not to let it get to her.

"I don't buy that Pauline. You really think that's true?"

She tried to be understanding, but Pauline stood up and walked for the door to her room, placing her sherry on a nearby dresser.

"Thanks for the drink and talk, I'll see you later."

"Pauline!" Sarah shouted after her.

But, it was too late, she was gone.

That night, Martin couldn't sleep, the bed was cold and lonely. All he could do was think of Pauline and what she'd said.

Throwing on a robe, he decided to fix himself a tea and something to eat downstairs.

It was as he was boiling the water that he thought he saw something move past his kitchen window. Glancing up, he then saw a dark shadow against the frosted glass as they knocked on it.

His first thought was that it was Pauline and immediately he opened it to notice instead it was Sarah standing on his doorstep.

"Oh it's you. What do you want?" He snapped and walked away, leaving the door to open.

She took that as an invitation to come inside, or as close as she was going to get.

"Like you need to ask," she answered, dryly, matching his tone. "Though I doubt you want to talk to me."

"That's right, I don't. So you're wasting your time coming here. Goodnight."

"I'm not here for myself anyway. Think of it as a medical appointment…" she said, trying to soften him just a bit as best she could. She took a seat at his table, he glared down at her.

"In that case, you can come tomorrow when the clinic is open," he replied and went to the door to open it.

"Just tell me Pauline wasn't right and I'll go."

Sighing elaborately, he stood hesitantly by the door. "It's none of your business."

"No, it isn't – but I'm asking about it anyhow. I'm in this now like it or not, so just give me a little something."

She began to cough a bit. He grimaced as he looked down at her. "You should be resting, not traipsing around in the middle of the night, you'll only make it worse!"

"I know," she grumbled and didn't look at him.

"You'll exacerbate the symptoms and…"

"Possibly cause the prolonged collapse of my upper respiratory system," Sarah replied and finally glanced up at him.

He seemed surprised. "Where did you see that – the internet?"

"No – John Hopkin's University," she answered him.

His eyes grew wide in surprise as her answer wasn't one he was expecting. "You're a physician?"

"In two months I will be fully certified."

"Congratulations!" He growled. "So if you're so educated, why didn't you just treat it yourself?"

"With what? I'm on vacation. Besides, without the MD by my name, I can't just write up a prescription like that. You know that. I did run some tests back at the hotel…"

"Wonderful. You're running a lab out of the inn! And, what are your findings?"

"I have diphtheria, don't I?"

He looked stunned again. "Possibly, the lab tests were inconclusive."

"But, you think it is -"

"Yes. Are you satisfied? Now you can go back to the inn and go to sleep. Goodnight."

"You really are as stubborn as she thinks, aren't you?" Sarah persisted, bluntly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied and finally gave up on the door. Instead he went back to his tea.

"Yeah, you do. I haven't been around you two for very long, but I'm a pretty quick study and I think that this thing between you goes way back. You've become so used to treating her a certain way as your receptionist – that you can't switch gears because everything's been happening too fast," Sarah answered calmly.

He was rather shocked at how perceptive she was, but he didn't let on. Instead he didn't answer her.

"You both are playing this game trying to be in control of something you can't. It scares the hell out of you. That's why you argue, it's comforting to you both, because that's the old relationship you're used to. So instead of telling each other how you really feel – you throw accusations and end up hurting one another when all you want to do…"

"Stop talking like you know anything about this – you don't!" Martin shouted suddenly.

He gripped the counter, not turning to her, but she could feel his anger growing.

"Actually I do. My former husband was like you – bold, arrogant and brilliant. He was a doctor too when I met him while studying at McGill University after I moved up to take care of my mom. He was always too busy for me, but I knew. He was a good man and I loved him very much. That's why I married him and moved to Vancouver."

"Ah yes, and I suppose that the marriage was so happy that's why you decided to go on vacation alone?" Snarled Martin in reply.

"No, it's because he's not here anymore. He died in a car crash about a year ago. I just couldn't stay there."

Sarah lowered her eyes and now he felt like a heel as he turned to look down at her.

It took a bit of lowering his pride for a moment as he muttered under his breath. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you. But, we went through the same thing that you and Pauline are going through. It just – it's hard to watch sometimes. I wasted so much time that I could have been with him, telling him how much I loved him rather than arguing with him – I just don't want to see you both end up like me. It's not worth it, Martin."

He glanced up at his name on her lips.

"Oh – I apologize – Dr. Ellingham…"

He shook his head. "No, Martin is fine."

She looked up and smiled at him softly. "Martin."

He, at last, relented. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"That would be nice, yes."

He was quiet for awhile and she said nothing as he fixed it for her, but when he handed it to her – he summed up the courage to say something.

"So – did she – say anything to you?" He whispered.

"Yeah, she did. She told me she doesn't think she's pretty or classy enough for you."

His brow creased in confusion. "What?"

"Those were her words," Sarah confirmed.

"Rubbish, where does she come up with these notions of hers?"

"Do you love her?" She pressed, sitting forward a bit in her chair.

He didn't seem to want to answer her.

"It's just a question."

"Yes! Of course I do!" He confirmed, that answer made Sarah smile.

"Have you told her that?"

"Yes!" He snarled, feeling as if she were growing oppressive. "Though she doesn't seem to remember. No doubt short-term memory loss brought on by…"

"Martin," Sarah warned. "Don't start that again."

"Sorry," he mumbled and drank his tea some more.

"You're a good man, don't sell yourself short. She sees it too, better than me and you know it. Don't be scared to be vulnerable sometimes – pride will get you nowhere," she answered him quietly, she took a sip of tea mimicking him a bit as she glanced up over the rim of her cup. "Right?"

"Mmm," he grumbled, looking a bit disagreeable.

"Well, I better go, need to get my rest as you recommended – thanks for indulging me."

As she stood up to leave, she was reaching for the door when he rose to his feet and instead, held the door for her.

She grinned up at him again and touched his arm in thanks.

"Night, Martin."

"Yes – um – goodnight, Sarah."


	10. Chapter 10

**AUTHOR NOTE – I changed the bit from the end of Chapter 9 to the part you see right below this note, I thought it explained the upcoming scene a little bit better. Thanks. **

"Mmm," he grumbled, looking a bit disagreeable.

"Well, I better go, need to get my rest as you recommended – thanks for indulging me."

As she stood up to leave, she was reaching for the door when he rose to his feet and instead, held the door for her.

Before she was about to leave he muttered something to her. "What should I get her?"

"What?" She asked, unclear what he meant.

"A gift – I know that women tend to – like that sort of thing."

She grinned up at him again and touched his arm. He seemed to jump a bit at her casual familiarity.

"What about some negligee, I think you're past the flowers stage now."

"Undergarments?" He asked, actually shocked she would even discuss this with him.

"No, I mean – something romantic and elegant – like a peignoir gown and robe, I know there's this really nice shop in London. I saw it on my way in from the airport – looked amazing. I can give you the address."

"You're suggesting I travel all the way to London tomorrow, during my clinic hours to buy her some questionable and unmentionable…"

She interrupted him.

"How badly do you want her back?"

He just gave her a disgusted face and she knew defeat when she saw it.

"Trust me, it's the thought that counts. You'll figure it out. Night, Martin."

"Yes – um – goodnight, Sarah."

(The next morning):

Pauline came in unusually early that day, she had a fitful sleep the night before and just wanted to not have to deal with Martin first thing, as she sat at her computer typing away, she was surprised then when he came in only about fifteen minutes after she did. Walking down the stairs, he looked up at the vacant lobby to see her gazing back at him.

Rather than saying anything, he gave her a soft look and then turned to head past the front door to his living quarters and kitchen.

Sighing in frustration, Pauline closed her eyes for a moment and then went back to work.

It was a good time later, just before the clinic actually opened that Martin took a break from organizing patient files for the day and turning on his own computer that he stopped and walked back into the front room.

"Pauline, do you think I can have a word with you for a moment?"

She just sat there, still typing and ignoring him.

"Pauline…!" He snarled and then quieted his tone as she grimaced and looked down at her desk. "Only a moment."

She relented at last and got up from her chair. Crossing the room, she didn't look up at him as she pressed past him by the door and sat across from his main desk. She looked the shell of the woman he knew. She was always full of energy, forthright and spoke her mind – but now she sat there, staring at the floor, looking like a frightened rabbit.

He felt like kicking himself – had he done this to her? His heart was breaking as he watched her, then took his chair across the desk.

Martin opened his mouth to speak, but the words didn't come. Instead, he began to grumble a bit and rifled through some paperwork. After a few moments of stony silence, he looked up again – trying to speak, there was a mere squeak from his lips and then he began his little shuffle once more.

Pauline didn't provide much input either as she still was averting her gaze. There was no anger in her expression, just pure dejection.

Finally, she looked up at him and watched his hopeless little routine.

"I'm still waiting for the word part," she whispered, her tone affect flat.

He glanced up and groaned, at last he confessed what he wanted to say. "Sarah came to talk to me last night."

She looked away again.

"It's not true," he continued, quietly.

"What isn't?" She bravely asked.

"What you think."

She raised her face and stared deep into his gray eyes that were unwavering, she knew what he meant. Her heart stood still. It was as if he wanted to say more but couldn't and she knew why.

"I can't do this…!"

It was all too intense for her suddenly, and standing up she headed for the door.

"Pauline – don't go – stay!"

She turns around and says "I can take you yelling at me for being incompetent, I can take you being mad at me, but I can't take you hating me."

Martin is stunned.

"I don't hate you – how can you think such a thing? What do you mean by that?"

"I…" she tried to say but now she was the one tongue-tied. "I'm sorry – I – I have to go!"

Turning on her heel, she opened the door and ran straight past the front lobby without stopping and out the front door.

He sat there for a moment, his eyes wide in shock and then suddenly something came on inside of him. Without further hesitation he jumped to his feet and ran after her.

Martin stood stock still in the street, he was shocked that as he looked around him – she was nowhere to be found. She couldn't have left that quickly on foot, that's when he heard the sound of a motorcycle engine.

It was her moped.

Running down to the spot where he normally parked his car, he found Pauline struggling with her oversized helmet and sitting astride her little cherry-red vehicle.

"Paul!" He said, using her preferred nickname in hopes it would soften her resolve to leave.

"Don't say anything," she snarled and tried to look past him as she checked her brakes. "Move please."

But, he got this weird look on his face and suddenly he leaned forward and grabbed her handlebars and stood directly in her path. She looked up at him and there was clear anger in her face this time – along with redness in her eyes, that made it very apparent she'd been crying.

"I'm not letting you go!" He said, his voice breaking and his expression was desperate.

A few folks walking by stopped to watch the drama unfolding, unclear what was going on aside from Pauline getting frustrated working with the usually cranky doctor. But, somehow – this seemed – more personal.

"Please," she begged, quietly. She just didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

And, neither did Martin who relented at last and stepped aside.

She hesitated as she drove around him, giving him one last look that she wanted to say more but couldn't and then circled around and drove off down the hill.

He watched her go until she disappeared at the bottom and then with a heavy heart, he went back inside – trying to return to work. He had no idea how he was going to face his day – especially with the empty chair in one corner of the room. Or if she'd ever come back to it…

(Later that night, after having driven all the way to Delabole and back again):

Pauline rode up to Bert's place around 10:00, the little light from the front of her moped winded it's way through the tiny laneways on the lonely path. As she parked outside of the restaurant, it was a quiet walk inside.

Bert was already in bed and the thought of spending another night alone wasn't something she was looking forward to – it was almost as if her whole relationship with Martin never happened. She swallowed back her tears as she climbed the stairs and entered her room.

Dropping her purse and helmet on the rocking chair, she gathered up her nightgown she left draped over her armoire door handle and preceded to go to the washroom when she stopped in her tracks.

Looking up, she noticed something unusual laying across one end of her bed. It looked like some sort of dress, pure white – she had never seen before.

"What the…?" She muttered and walked over to it.

That's when she saw what it really was.

Possibly the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. A long, pure ivory peignoir made entirely from silk. The front bodice had a trim of lace across it in a sort of silhouette design that framed the side and wrapped around the backless section held up by soft spaghetti straps, it came down to the rib cage in front and had a design of roses and petals. Over the gown was a robe that came down to her elbows in more lace and little ribbons to curl up at the sides to hold up the sleeves. But, it was the train of the gown that was remarkable – it went down past the floor and tapered in long fabric that cascaded on the floor as she picked it up much the way a wedding gown would. It was breathtaking. She'd never seen anything like it before.

A little, high pitched cry escaped her lips as she twirled it around and admired it.

She knew immediately who it was from, there was no doubt – she didn't know how he had accomplished it, but she was touched beyond words. Then, as she lifted the gown in her hands – something dropped down on the bed.

It was a tiny, linen envelope that looked almost as beautiful. She picked it up and admired the lovely smell of lilies coming up from the package.

Opening it, she saw it contained a note in Martin's handwriting.

"Your professional appearance in the clinic has left something to be desired – and it has become a distraction…I noticed it within the first week you started working. Your habit of wearing those little miss-matched socks with your sandals. I used to sit and watch you walking off to the kitchen most days when I absently left my door ajar and saw you as you passed, how your skirt seemed to circle around your long legs and your quirky gait as you moved. Or the annoying habit you have of wearing clothes so loosely that they fell off your shoulder for anyone to see – particularly when you bend over them to help them with something like a computer, possibly your skin texture is too soft to retain the fabric in it's place or something errantly out of place like that little, frecklish mole on your left shoulder where you think no one notices. I have. There were times when you'd sit there twirling your pen between your lips and sucking on the tip – particularly when I'm with a patient and I observe you across the room. Then the way you look at people with those beguiling, sea-green eyes of yours, begging for something to do, I find it harder and harder to say no. Or your hair with its errant, copper curls that you are forever hiding behind your ear. One day, it struck me so much that I found myself staring at you for at least twenty minutes with your habit of playing with it, that I wrote the wrong prescription for Mrs. Rundall and she was treated for erectile dysfunction until she called to complain. You are a distraction…but now…a welcome one."

Sinking to the floor next to the bed, utterly in tears she felt a combination of being overwhelmed and giddy. It was almost too much to take.

Here was this remarkable present he'd given her and these words he was saying. She felt like a queen.

For a moment, she soaked in the scene – the thought that he'd probably gone all the way to London or some big city nearby to seek this out, risked embarrassment to go into a lingerie shop and probably get molly-coddled by some over-helpful shopkeepers asking about his 'preference'. Then, probably paid handsomely for the most exquisite outfit they had and then took the time to sneak this into her room, risk being detected and then to write out such lovely words.

She hugged the gown against her and cried into her hands.

All she could think about now was seeing him again.

But she decided she wanted to do something for the doc in return. Looking at herself across the room in the mirror, she was struck by an idea.

(The next day at the clinic, as Pauline started for the day – she was surprised to find the place to herself, Martin still stored away upstairs – probably getting ready for the day. She felt weird as she walked into the lobby in her new high heels):

She stood at the bottom of the steps and was about to go up to seek him out when the phone on her desk rang.

"Portwenn Surgery, oh hi Sarah," she said as she lifted the receiver. "What? No, I haven't seen him yet – yes, I've been home. Why are you being so nosy? You had somethin' to do with that, didn't you?"

She listened for a few moments, knowing that such an elaborate and well-thought out 'feminine' gift wasn't really within the doc's realm.

"Uh huh – it was beautiful. Yeah. Was the note your idea too?"

It was almost with a bit of a disappointment in her tone until she heard her answer.

"It wasn't? You don't know what I'm talking about?" She replied, and then secretively smiled to herself. "Yeah, he did. It was incredible. I know, I know – I was crying – it was so sweet! Yeah…"

She heard the sound of a footstep come up behind her and turned to see the tender look on Martin's face as he stood behind her.

"Umm…I'll tell you about it later. Yes he is – bye…"

She turned to face him and he looked at her, his eyes looked bewildered and his lips nearly parted as he took her in.

"Pauline!" He exclaimed.

She stood up from her desk for a moment. It was her new appearance, she hoped he would notice. Gone was the gypsy skirts and scrunchies. Now her copperish-red hair was falling in straight, soft lines to her shoulders and framing her face. She had on a black, figure-fitting cut business jacket and matching pencil skirt that came just above the knee. And on either foot were patent-leather black pumps with a high heel, she seemed to struggle to walk in a bit. Underneath her jacket was a soft linen blue blouse and around her neck a tiny gold locket. She looked amazing.

"What do you think? More orderly for the office?" She whispered and spun around, but had to grasp the desk slightly as she tumbled a bit in the heels.

He seemed still at a loss for words. She smiled at him.

Finally he said something. "So – is this your appearance from now on?"

She looked surprised. "You don't like it? I thought you'd think I was pretty."

"You were before. I mean…"

He thought he'd put his foot in it, but as he fumbled for words he could see her eyes glisten over with tears and now he was sure he'd hurt her.

"That's to say…you look now…"

She held up her hand and then a smile came to her face.

"You just said I was pretty!" She sighed.

"Of course you are!" He answered, seeming as if he was insulted she would even question it.

"I think you're beautiful too!" She gushed, she tried to step closer to him but stumbled in her heels again – finally she kicked them off and walked across the floor in her nyloned feet.

"Don't be ridiculous – I'm a man!" He grumbled.

"And? Men can be beautiful too, I find you beautiful – inside and out."

He just snorted a bit in contempt and rolled his eyes.

"And not only that – your words – they were pretty amazing too."

He looked up and his eyes turned soft.

She walked a little closer to him and he was about to approach her, but stopped short. She looked confused.

"Pauline, I think that while we work in this office – we should keep things – professional."

She seemed disappointed as she cast her eyes downwards a bit, so he added something quickly to soothe her doubts.

"But, I want to cook supper for you."

Her smile came easily to her face. "Ah – yes, that would be divine."

Martin could tell she was mocking him, slightly but he tried not to let it bother him. "I think if we keep things discreet – we can safely resume – seeing one another…"

"Tonight I hope," she replied. "I want to model that incredible nightgown you bought for me properly. You're very sweet. Did you – pick it out yourself?"

"Mmm," he grumbled and looked like he didn't want to discuss the humiliating circumstances. "It was Sarah's suggestion."

"I know, she told me. Thank you for going through all that you no doubt did to get it for me."

He grinned at her in response. "Uh, yes…now, I need to go out for a moment – to fetch something from the shed out back."

She looked baffled as he turned on his heel and walked off to the kitchen to head for the back door.

But, after a few minutes she caught on – he wanted to go off to the shed…

"Oh!" She snickered and ran through the room to the back door herself.

(Ten minutes later, just before the clinic was set to finally open – Bert arrived on the front stoop, knocking on the door and wondering why it was still locked):

"Aren't they going to open for the day? I wonder if they are…" he said, laughing to himself when he heard some voices just beyond the side of the house – including Pauline's giggling.

He looked around trying to find out where the sound was coming from and noticed that amongst the tall grass there appeared to be a little lean-to near the cottage – this time he heard the clear sound of the doc's voice saying something incoherent and again Pauline's giggles.

Sneaking up to it, he got up close to the door and listened to the conversation inside.

He could hear Pauline.

"And your soft lips, and your ears and your…"

There was some kissing sounds and Pauline's giggling. He thought he even heard the doc chuckling – in fact, he was sure of it.

"Your nimble fingers, your pre-melanoma mole," the doctor said after they were done.

"It's not melanoma, Martin."

"It could be, you should really have that checked – I'll make an appointment next week."

"Will you give me a full physical? You know – just in case I have moles anywhere else on my body," she answered.

Now Bert chuckled to himself, typical Pauline.

"I've seen all your other skin formations, they look fine."

'Nice going, doc!' Bert chuckled to himself.

"Oh you have a way with words, Dr. Ellingham!" Pauline purred and there was more giggling, more kissing and shuffling of clothes.

"What is that perfume you're wearing?" He suddenly interjected.

"What?"

"I mean – it has a strong, almost cloying scent."

Bert rolled his eyes.

"It's floral, what do you think it is?"

"Neroli, petitgrain?"

"No, it's a lily perfume. I wear it all the time."

"I know, I can tell when you enter a room by the aroma alone."

"That's sweet," she answered and this time more kissing was heard.

Then it went quiet, it was obvious that the make out session was lasting past the talking phase and finally Bert decided to give them their privacy and instead went around the front. He would come back a little while later to see if he could get in to see the doc, he had news to tell him rather than seeing him simply for a medical matter.

As the was half way down the road, he was struck by an idea. Gathering some flowers by the path and looking down at a grocery bag he was carrying with some stuff for the restaurant, he made a little quick repast and treat for the couple. Going around the back of the cottage, he left it on the doorstep for them.

Smiling, he went on to his restaurant for the day.

(After about twenty minutes, Martin had noticed the time and decided to go ahead and open for the day):

As he was coming along with Pauline stumbling along in her heels still, he paused before opening the back door to the clinic.

"What's wrong?" Pauline asked, nearly banging into him.

"There's something on the step," Martin commented and lifted it up in his hands.

It was a bundle of wild flowers stuck in a small, box – inside were some pasties and muffins.

"Someone left you a gift. You must have made a good impression on them, doc," Pauline commented and smiled at him. "Come on, we better open up – I noticed some people coming up the street."

Martin grumbled a bit in confirmation and glanced down at the tiny parcel in his hand. He wondered who it was from before putting it on the counter in his kitchen and heading in for work.

(Later that afternoon, it's late in the day and patients are only coming in sporadically through the day):

As the doctor sat at his desk, he couldn't help but constantly looking up from his work to see Pauline in the lobby at her own through his open doorway. The change in her appearance merited it – she looked so different today and it was only another facet of how lovely she really was.

Feeling his eyes upon her, she glanced up to meet his intent gaze across the room. In embarrassment, he averted his eyes. She smiled warmly at him.

Looking around the room to notice there was only two patients in attendance – one who was in the midst of leaving as she had to rebook for another day due to her child calling in with flu at school, she was struck with an idea.

She picked up her cell and dialled Martin's direct line.

He picked it up, rather than talking to him, she texted him instead. He looked confused until he saw her words coming through on his display.

The words said 'Call my phone, don't ask why, just follow my lead…trust me.'

He glanced up and looked at her in confusion. She just pointed to her phone instead.

The patient in the room didn't seem to notice or care, she was far too immersed in a copy of Hello! Magazine.

The phone at Pauline's desk rang.

"Hello, oh hello Ms. Montgomery. Chest pains? Oh dear!"

Martin talked into the receiver. "What are talking about?"

"I'll tell the doctor!" Pauline answered loudly in reply. "Doc! Emergency – Ms. Montgomery! She needs a house visit as she's having trouble breathing! Do you need me to come with you?"

The doctor just sat there, still not understanding what she was doing.

Frustrated, Pauline sighed and walked across the room to where he sat, glancing over at the patient – still not paying any attention to the mini drama unfolding.

The receptionist closed the door slightly and leaned inside. "Martin, there's only one patient here for a sprained ankle – wrap it, tell her to come back in – close up and come over to my place. I'll make it worth your while!"

"Pauline, it's the middle of the day!" He objected, thinking she'd lost her mind.

"Exactly. I need you – right now!" She replied, and from the blatant blush rising over her chest and neck – it was obvious she did.

As she was almost in the process of convincing him, in walked another patient – Bert.

Pauline turned and groaned as she saw him. "Bert, we can't see you today, can you come back?"

"Pauline! I – " Martin objected when he saw that it was Bert. He knew that no doubt all he was coming here to do was rib him on the awkward discovery of him leaving his flat the previous morning. That decided it. "Ah – yes, Pauline rebook all my appointments."

The woman patient finally noticed and seemed to start to protest when Pauline held up her hand. It was decided.

Grinning unabashedly at her boyfriend, she ran to her desk to redo the schedule for the day.

It was when Bert finally noticed her.

"My goodness, look at you girl – where are you going all fancy-dressed like that? You look like a supermodel!"

Pauline just giggled and thanked him. But, as she sat down and scrambled madly with the schedule, she had only one thing on her mind.

(After a few minutes of ushering everyone out, Pauline and Martin made it to Large's Restaurant. She nearly was in a run and dragging him down the street by his hand before he shook her loose and walked some distance behind her):

They looked around to make sure no one took notice as they slipped around in back. It wasn't the easiest feat as there were several people already eating out front.

Not far behind them, but at a discreet distance was Bert Large, who was trailing the pair down the street – he knew where they were going off to. He felt like some private detective on the trail of a cheating couple.

Upstairs in the room, Martin seemed hesitant but Pauline wasted no time, suggesting he dispatch his clothes on her chair – she went off to dress in her lovely new peignoir.

He complained at first that she would be clothed and he would not, but she told him jokingly that she hadn't bought him a peignoir to go with hers and he didn't answer her.

When she emerged she looked amazing, her hair that had been straightened was now upswept in a light bun and a few loose tresses fell around her lovely face. The peignoir seemed to glide over her skin and body – and she looked like an angel.

He, on the other hand, felt slightly under-dressed for the occasion. Shivering nervously in place, she noticed the skin along his body with it's rosy cast and the obvious growing excitement to the circumstances as he covered his extremities with his hand.

"Could you crack open your window?" He muttered, looking rather uncomfortable.

He seemed to be putting in a valiant effort to retain his dignity but was losing.

"OK, hold on," she commented and went to stand in front of the window.

"Pauline, cover yourself! There has to be at least 20 or 30 people eating lunch down there!" He shouted as he saw her revealing herself to half of Portwenn.

The sounds of his voice caught the attention of the patrons of Large Restaurant who glanced up to see Pauline looking rather fetching in a frilly, white nightgown by the window and it was obvious she wasn't alone – but who she was sharing her afternoon with surprised everyone.

There was no doubt who the voice belonged to and soon whispers of the doc and Pauline started circulating. Bert just glanced up and smirked as the red-head above took no notice of the commotion below.


	11. Chapter 11

"It's fine!" Pauline snarled. "Such a wet blanket!"

"I am not a wet blanket!" Martin protested, though right now he couldn't put up much of an argument in his predicament.

She just smiled and came up to him. "So do you like the gown on me?"

"No," he answered, coldly.

She wasn't exactly surprised, but as he lifted his hands – exposing himself, he gently lifted her robe from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor at their feet, then he lowered the straps on her gown so that it also fell to the ground.

"I prefer it off."

Pauline smiled up at him as he lowered his face to kiss her, pulling her naked body into his arms, she reached up to hold him as he actually dug his fingers a bit into the skin along her back. Moving in closer, she began to rub her torso against him and it wasn't long until he moaned a bit under her lips to show that it was turning him on.

As they separated, she began to trail her hot kisses down his chin and along his neck, pulling the soft, supple skin between her lips, biting along her path with a nip of her teeth. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation as her lips found their way over his collarbone and chest. She lovingly bathed one of his nipples with her tongue.

He was about to say something, when she looked up.

"Shhh…less talk, just relax and enjoy it."

Closing his eyes again, he became hers to do with as she wished. As her mouth voyaged over his warm tummy and belly button, they gradually found their goal and it became apparent the destination.

Lifting his erection in her nimble fingers, she sank her lips around the tip of him and let it glide inside her awaiting mouth. She sucked it so deeply that her throat formed a tight, warm blanket around the base of his sex.

Martin couldn't help himself, falling forward just slightly, he captured the crown of her amber hair in his hands and shouted a bit in pleasure, her head bobbing up and down.

"Dear God – Pauline! Don't stop! Oh yes! Yes! Take all of it! Yes!"

Downstairs, the people having their lunch looked up, a few folks covered their mouth in shock. Whatever was going on up there, they were picturing their doc in a whole new light.

A few minutes later, they could hear him panting and grunting and it grew more and more obscene.

Bert decided to make things interesting. Borrowing a cell phone from one of his customers, he tried to remember the doc's cell. It took several moments, and a miss call to the local florist before he remembered.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Pauline and Martin had quickly made their way over to her bed. Laying down flat on the mattress, with all the sheets drawn back, Pauline sat straddling Martin as he looked up at her impaled on him, her body rolling and her back arching as he began to thrust himself deeper into her yielding body as she rose up a bit on her knees, her breasts bouncing in time to his tempo.

He smiled as he held gripped her waist in his large hands and watched her, her eyes shut in ecstasy as she began to mumble off several expletives and moan his name over and over. The bed's headboard resumed it's banging against the wall as his body began to sweat and he could feel her hands rest against his chest as she touched him to steady herself, though she was still lost in her own world. He reached up and started to squeeze her breasts in the palm of his hand, rolling the nipple against his soft skin. She grunted in response. Her radiant skin glowed with a healthy hue as she began to pant in shallow breaths.

Raising his waist up so that she was lifted a bit off the bed, he began to change his speed and she could feel him driving himself deeper, feeling him pulsing inside of her. She nearly collapsed against him as she could feel a drop of perspiration roll down between her cleavage.

Suddenly, without warning – Martin's cell phone began to ring on the end table next to the bed.

He didn't even stop for a moment as he reached over while still having sex with her to pick it up.

"Martin!" Pauline gasped, barely able to speak. "Don't answer it! Leave it!"

But he didn't hear her, he was still a doctor, no matter the circumstances.

"Ye…s? What…what is it?" He cried into the phone, desperately trying to enunciate the words though his mind was clearly elsewhere.

"Doc! I'm glad I caught you!" Came Bert Large's voice. "I have a bit of an emergency."

The patrons downstairs looked at him and shook their head as Bert tried to stifle his laugh.

There was a pause, and he could hear some rather interesting human sounds over the phone as well as the doc breathing rather obscenely.

"Doc, you still there? I didn't catch you at a – inopportune moment, did I? Why are you panting – you're not – with you know who?"

"No…I…what Bert?" Was all Martin could muster in retaliation.

"Hang up!" Pauline hissed, trying to be discreet as she moaned a little bit and felt Martin rise up again, thrusting deeply into her – as if to silence her. "Oh Gawd!"

"It's my toe, doc!"

Martin rolled his eyes as he listened to him. He couldn't believe he was calling him about this.

"Do you still…have it?" Martin snarled into the phone.

"Yes!"

"Then…you're fine!" He shouted and threw down the phone onto the floor beside the bed.

The anger he felt was turned into passion as he gripped Pauline's waist a little roughly with his hands and started to pound into her warm, trembling body. She cried and whimpered as she could feel her impending climax.

It was then that they heard cheering and wolf whistling outside.

In horror, they realized that the phone was still blinking on the floor and that the window was cracked open beside them.

Pauline looked panicked. "You did turn that off, didn't you? Oh Gawd – tell me it's off! Martin!"

But, as the sounds of the cheering picked up, so did the ebb and flow of the rise in the rush of their bodies and even though they knew it was wrong – they couldn't fight it. Martin gritted his teeth and closed his eyes tightly as he hung on to her for dear life. She reached forward and collapsed on top of him as he gripped her even tighter and their bodies became completely one as they bounced off the bed together.

She could hear his loud, intense cry of release in her ear as he clung to her. She cried out herself as she felt him and then began to spasm as she could feel his body shuddering below hers.

"Pauline!"

"Martin!" She screamed in reply and then it was over, as she could feel the rush of something warm and viscid inside of her. She cringed for a brief moment and then subsided.

"Oh wow," she gasped as she lay on top of him, feeling his heart pounding away in her ear and the slickened feel of his warm skin. She purred in delight and kissed his breast. "That was incredible. Best I've ever had."

He didn't answer her as his eyes were just staring up blankly at the ceiling looking thoroughly mortified.

Later that afternoon, Pauline and Martin decided to spend a few hours sleeping off their bout of lovemaking. She slept in peace curled beside him, but Martin lay wide awake, holding Pauline in his arms as he looked like a wild animal ready to pounce on anything that moved in the room.

Like clockwork, Martin heard a scuffling near the door and a little bang.

Pauline was just waking up, stretching her hands out a bit when her partner next to her suddenly sat up with a start and hit her square on the nose with his elbow, throwing back the sheets over them.

"Sonofabitch!" Pauline exclaimed, grabbing her nose. "What are you doing? Are you trying to kill me?"

He immediately turned and crouched down next to her to examine her nose as it was second nature. "It doesn't appear a fracture of the nasal bone. I think if you put some ice on it you will be…"

"Damnit – can you not do the doctor thing and be a boyfriend for five seconds, please?"

"Fine. Are you OK?"

"Nevermind!' She growled and got up out of bed.

Opening the door to the room, Martin noticed the same tray of food and goodies that he saw near the cottage door.

"It's Bert," Pauline commented, leaning down to pick up a croissant from a plate on the tray. "It has to be, must be his idea of a joke – he staged that thing earlier. He probably put it on speaker phone on someone's cell."

"That man is a danger to himself and to others, I should get him sectioned!" Martin snarled as he began pacing in behind Pauline. "We should be getting back to the office."

"Are you serious? And how do you plan on doing that with our adoring groupies out there? Huh? Climb up to the attic and scale the roof?"

He hadn't thought of that and now he looked even more panicked then before.

"This was another one of your bad ideas!" He snarled.

"Oh yeah, it's always Pauline's fault for everything!" She yelled.

Back to square one. She couldn't believe it.

He turned and glared at her. "It was your fault – you were the one who wanted to have an 'afternoon delight'!"

"Well…excuse me, but you agreed to it – besides, I found out something interesting today…"

She smiled up at him, but he was anything but amused.

"What?"

"You like to be watched or at least have an audience when you do it!"

"Don't be vulgar!" He snarled. "I can't believe this. I can just hear the rumors and innuendo now, every patient who enters the clinic will no doubt have some witty little remark to make. This is just wonderful!"

"Actually that just gave me an idea!" Pauline suddenly exclaimed, her eyes lighting up, she leaned up and quickly kissed his cheek before running off to gather up her clothes.

"Oh goodie, another one!" He muttered and followed after her.

As they got to the bottom of the stairs, they realized the house was vacant and everyone was enjoying the meal outside, including Bert who was making the rounds hounding his customers with his wonderful 'joke'.

"OK, what I had in mind was for you to pull that fire alarm over there on the side wall while I shout out 'Fire!' – got it?" She said, as she wiggled into a sweater she'd grabbed while coming from her room.

She saw him struggling with his tie and turned around to help him knot it under his chin.

He would have normally objected to her lame-brained schemes, but he actually found he was entertaining the notion now – and he had to admit – dating Pauline was certainly never boring.

"Sounds good to me," he answered curtly.

"Really?" She giggled.

"Yes, just get on with it!" He snarled, not happy that she seemed so complacent.

"Alright, alright…"

Going over to the entrance to Bert's place, she leaned out the door as he hid behind her.

She took a deep breath and then shouted as loudly she could.

"Fire!"

With that pronouncement, Martin pulled down on the tiny red switch and suddenly there was a loud bell that broke through the air outside and in the building. He put his hands over his ears to block out the sound as it was right next to him.

People jumped immediately to their feet and began screaming, looking like confused rats as they scrambled to find the stone stairs to the street above as quickly as they could – some knocking over glasses and silverware.

Martin glanced over his shoulder at Pauline near the door and rolled his eyes. This was certainly retribution to Bert's prank, so he felt very little sympathy for Large in this instance.

"What…wait! It's a false alarm!" Bert cried, trying to calm nerves as he tried to find the person who called the warning, but the voice was familiar and he knew who it was.

Running after his patrons, while stopping here and there to catch his breath, he disappeared up the stairs himself.

"Coast is clear!" Pauline announced, proudly. "Let's get out of here!"

But as the were heading for the stairs, Martin looked over at Pauline and made a proclamation.

"That's the last time I have sex in the afternoon!"

As he turned to head up the stairs, he was immediately face to face with Sarah who gave him a rather shocked look.

Before she could say anything, he held up his hand and a finger in warning. She shut up and he walked past her insult. Sarah had come down to see what all the commotion was about and see if they couldn't use a practicum doctor in a pinch.

Pauline, on the other hand, was all smiles as she caught up with her friend and took her arm. "I'll tell you all about it later," she whispered to her.

"No, you won't!" Shouted Martin from the landing above, overhearing her.

(Later at the end of a very trying day back at the clinic. As expected most of the patients came by to raze the doctor and his receptionist about their new relationship):

As Martin went outside to check for some of the mail he'd forgot to retrieve that morning, he was met by the ever-present female teenage pack that since he started in Portwenn many moons ago had been the bane of his existence.

"Oh doc, don't think I can have the same prescription as Paul, eh? I think I'm free tomorrow afternoon!" One of the pubescent blondes commented as she bumped into her friends and they began to laugh at his dispense.

"No doubt he'll give you a lollipop if you're a good girl and put out!" Another teased and tittered in delight.

"Perv!" One more muttered and they moved up the street quickly out of sight.

Martin rolled his eyes and grumbled in anger as he watched them leave and when he turned he saw his Aunt Joan standing there in the laneway unseen and glaring up at him with a knowing face. It was the icing on the cake.

"Don't give me that face!" He snarled and turned on his heel to go back into the clinic.

"Marty, we need to have a chat. It's almost closing time, have a moment?"

"No!" He snarled.

"Good!" She answered.

He knew he could never deny her anything, she was like his mother in almost every respect. He just nodded numbly and reached over to help her struggle up the steps, but she pushed his hand aside.

"Thank you, I'm fine. I don't need any help!"

Ah yes – she was definitely an Ellingham.

"Is Pauline here still?" Joan asked as she walked up behind her nephew to the front door of the cottage.

"Yes, she's inside. So are we going to receive the same grilling about this afternoon as half the village has already been doling out like candy today? Why not add you to that list."

"Nonsense, everyone knew already. Come on, let's go talk inside," she said, matter-of-factly and walked in to notice Pauline glancing up from her desk. "Good afternoon, dear – do you think we can speak over some tea?"

Pauline looked confused and pointed to both her and Martin standing behind her.

"Yes, yes!" Martin snapped. "Both of us!"

She walked over and swatted his arm. Joan smiled at her reaction, she always did like that girl – even if she was a bit unorthodox.

"Oww! That hurt!" Martin complained, rubbing his arm.

So Joan walked over and hit him too. Now he looked equally offended.

"Hey!" Martin complained.

Then grumbling he followed the pair into the kitchen, but as he was standing by the entrance to the back rooms, the door to the clinic opened and Bert Large came inside.

"Is that Bert?" Joan called out from in back.

"Yes!" Growled Martin who gave him a glowering look.

Bert humbly held his woolen cap in his hands and fumbled a bit nervously in place like a bashful child.

"Afternoon, doc."

"Mehh!" Martin hissed and ignored him to go fetch his tea.

After a few moments of making a nice little repast for their guests, Martin refused to sit down alongside Pauline, but rather protectively behind her with his back against the counter.

She glanced up at him and tried to urge him to sit as he was making her nervous, but he staunchly refused.

"So what is this all about?" Martin growled at last, still in his perpetual bad mood.

"You tell me, Martin. I heard from Bert you put on quite the show for his customers this afternoon!" Joan said, definitely scolding him.

Martin acted like a ten year old and pointed down at Pauline.

"It was her idea!"

"It's not like I twisted your arm!" Pauline whined and shot him a dirty look.

"Bert, I think you should apologize for your part in this!" Joan demanded, looking over at the man sitting next to her.

He turned meek. "Joanie, I – alright – fine. I'm – I'm sorry doc, Paul. It won't happen again."

Her nephew didn't like how familiar this man was with his auntie's first name.

"It's alright, Bert," Pauline said, grinning. She was easy to please.

"No it's not alright!" Barked Martin. "And might I add, I think you have some explaining yourself – what exactly was happening between you and my aunt when I walked through the living room after leaving your place a day or so ago?"

Pauline's eyes turned big as she listened, this was the first she heard of this.

"Why – what? What happened?" She asked.

"Martin! Do I need to paint you a picture?" Joan answered, a bit of blush coming to her cheeks at the memory, though she remained duly indignant.

"No! Don't! But, I don't think you have the right to cast disparagement when you are…" he started to say, but couldn't mouth the words.

"Having sex? Yes, there are other people who enjoy it too other than yourself, Marty!" Joan snarled and glared up at her nephew.

It turned his stomach.

Pauline grinned and Bert began to chuckle.

"You two?" Pauline dared to ask.

Joan nudged Bert, "I think we should tell them the news."

"What – now?"

"Yes. Now!"

"What news?" Martin asked in dread.

Bert took a hold of Joan's hand – the one on the left and held it out for inspection on the kitchen table. On her third finger glowed a bright, little ring. It was obvious. They were engaged.

Martin started to wriggle and make a face in disgust at the idea. "Oh God!"

Pauline's eyes grew big in shock. "Ohhh…ewww!"

Joan looked angered by their reaction. "What is wrong with you two? This is a good thing!"

"Good thing? How can you possibly describe this as a – good thing?" Martin objected and covered his eyes, as if the mere look of her ring sent him into revulsions. It was almost the same reaction of nearly vomiting that he displayed with his blood phobia.

"Does this mean – that – we're incestuous?" Pauline cried, gripping the table and she bit her lip.

Now Martin looked down at her in disbelief. "What?"

"You know, he's like my dad practically and she's nearly your mom – does that make what we've been doing…oh gross! Oh Gawd! I'm going to have to go scrub myself with ammonia and hot water!"

"Pauline, we are not related and neither is Bert to you," Martin replied, looking at her, disdainfully. "Have you thought this through, you can't seriously be thinking of marrying…?"

Joan took Bert's hand in hers and smiled at him. "We're in love, Marty and you will learn to accept it, he will be your step-uncle. End of story."

Bert just smiled up at him. "Martin, come now, my boy – we've already had a heart to heart about…"

Martin raised his finger and shook his head as if to shush him. Pauline glanced up over her shoulder at him as she saw his reaction.

"About me? When did this happen?" She demanded.

Martin just gave a befuddled look and quickly left the room.

Pauline followed after him. "Doc, get back here!"

"The course of true love," Joan sighed.

"Yes it is," Bert replied, chuckling and then he leaned over to softly stroke under Joan's chin and kiss her lips in response.

(That evening, as they were locking the clinic):

Pauline gathered up her belongings and headed for the front door, she was sure that the last thing Martin wanted to do after the events of the day was to spend another evening with her.

"Where are you going?" She heard his voice call out to her as she headed for the front hall by the stairs.

She turned to him and tried to muster a grin. "Home."

"Pauline, I said I was making you supper!"

That was all he had to say on that as he turned and held out his hand to the kitchen with a blaise look on his face.

Pauline's smile widened as she walked over to him. "Will you wear a little, frilly apron for me when you do?"

"No."

She grinned and he leaned over to kiss her lips for a moment, she reached up and put her arms around his back as he savored it. As they walked away, she swatted him on the butt.

"What is it with you and corporal punishment?" He complained as he followed her towards the back.


	12. Chapter 12

**NOTE: Shorter update this time around, and I changed Pauline's moped to what it really is – a scooter. Sorry about that. Thanks for all your reviews. We're getting closer to the end – there really is one, I swear! **

(A week passes and Martin gets the lab results back from Sarah's tests. He can't find her at the Crow's Nest and is unable to contact her for an appointment. Eventually, he bumps into her down by the harbour, sitting on a bench and watching people go by):

She looks up at him, coughing slightly and then moves down the bench to make him room.

"Oh hey, Martin – care to join me?"

He immediately sat down without replying.

"I've been looking for you, why haven't you been answering your phone?" He demanded.

"Sorry about that, been turning off my phone more because I've been finding it harder to have conversations with my throat."

He just grumbled and watched people go by, almost suspiciously as if others finding out he was being chatty with a new person in town and being polite would be bad for his reputation.

"So what did you need me for?" Sarah asked, seeing as how he was clamming up again.

"I received your results from the laboratory in Truro."

"And?"

"It's diphtheria."

"Well, that's rather anti-climatic. Are they always that slow? That's amazing," she said, letting her cynical side show a bit at the system.

"It's a small town, but I agree that Truro usually is more expeditious than that," he answered and started to pull his doctor's case into his lap. She watched him calmly.

"So now what?"

"You tell me," he replied, looking at her glibly. "You are the physician in training."

Now she knew he was challenging her and she decided to rise to the occasion.

"Well, first thing…"

She removed her face mask, something she only did most times alone at the hotel.

"This really isn't serving me or anyone here given that I found out that folks in this community have be immunized against MMR and DTP at an early age in school, and assuming you're a doctor – you would have when you studied in college. And I suppose you've got something in that case to inoculate me."

"That's correct, and I've already called Penhale to take you to the hospital. I tried to call ambulance, but he somehow intercepted the line and insisted that it would be faster for him to escort you. I have no idea why."

Sarah just grinned to herself. That was until Martin took her hand, rolled up her sleeve, brought forward a needle with her vaccine and injected it into her arm. She winced for a moment and then she was fine.

"Is hospital really necessary?"

"Given the fact that you've been exposed this long, you probably have a chance of developing myocarditis. If not treated…"

"My heart, right? OK, enough said."

She tried to relax and closed her eyes for a moment – it was then the weight of the situation hit her and despite her best efforts to stay strong, she began to feel light headed.

Slipping a bit on the bench, Martin looked over at her in concern.

Reaching over he touched her neck to feel her skin and then grasp her left wrist in his hand to measure her heartbeat.

"Got away from me for a minute, I'll be OK," she said, in barely a whisper. "Do you mind if I use your shoulder while we wait?"

"My shoulder?" He muttered, looking confused at the implication.

"Yes, I hear it's between your neck and your arm – see, I learned that in medical school!"

He gave her a snotty look.

"It doesn't mean anything – I just don't really want to slump over on the ground, it might alarm people."

"Fine," he answered. "That should be alright."

"Thank you."

She came in a little closer to him and put her arm through his, resting her head against the side of his shoulder, she closed her eyes for a moment. She could feel her head spinning slightly.

He looked down at her in concern. "Did you have anything to eat recently?"

"How do you mean?"

"It might not be the diphtheria, your blood sugar may be low."

"That's true, I hadn't thought of that."

"Hold on," he replied and noticed the group of teenage girls coming up the street, one girl was eating a cookie. "Your cookie – I need a piece of that."

"I'm sure you do, doc," one joked and ribbed her friend as they started their obnoxious giggling. "Getting awfully cuddly over there with that new woman – does Pauline know?"

Sarah looked up and shot the girl a look that made the girl back down immediately, she could tell she wasn't a person to mess with.

"No, I'm serious – this lady has low blood sugar. I just need a bit."

One of the girls came forward and took a bit of her friend's food. She objected, but then handed it to Sarah.

"I have a cousin that has it, I know what it's like – here you go."

Martin seemed genuinely surprised. "Thank you."

She smiled at him. "You're welcome."

As they strode up the street, Sarah muttered. "That was nice – I usually hate teenagers."

Martin looked over at her and despite himself, he smiled at her.

"Yes," he said and watched them go.

There was a pause for a few minutes when he noted.

"Hard to believe I ever was one at times."

She giggled a bit, but then broke down into another hacking cough.

"Uh uh – don't laugh. Just rest until Penhale gets here."

She nodded and turned docile, curling up against him. "Thank you for waiting with me, you must have other things to do."

He didn't answer, he just found himself closing his eyes as well and enjoying the peace and quiet for a bit.

"Paul is a lucky lady, you're so nice and cozy," she murmured, almost more to herself than to him, but he glanced over her. She curled into him a little more and sighed enjoying it a bit.

"I'm surprised you haven't asked me yet," he replied.

She looked up at him for a moment. "How do you mean? Oh about your little incident – eh, who cares. You didn't do anything wrong, everyone else thinks so – but who gives a shit. You both do what you want, I say. Besides, you don't need my input."

He wasn't expecting that answer but smiled despite himself.

"They sure love to talk in this place, don't they?" She whispered.

"Oh yes."

"Folks would gossip about the air if they could, 'Oh look! The fog has rolled in!'" She joked.

He added. "There goes the neighbourhood!"

Sarah looked up and started laughing and he found himself chuckling as well.

That's when she noticed it. She reached up to touch the front of his silvery-blonde hair in curiosity. "You're letting it grow out."

"Nonsense!" He snarled, his dark mood returning as he batted her hand away slightly.

She sat up a bit and smiled smugly. "No way!"

"What now?" He replied, feeling a bit under inspection as she seemed to be preoccupied by the side of his head, staring at it in wonderment.

"Your left ear – it's pierced!"

"No," he hissed and burrowed into his spot a bit.

"Well technically no – it's healed over, but it was definitely pierced at one time! A sign of teenage rebellion? You little hellion you!" She said, giggling a bit.

"Stop!" He hissed and sat up feeling uncomfortable.

"But…"

"Stop!" He repeated a little louder and gave her an angry look.

She just grinned at him. "OK, confession…look."

Rolling up the sleeve of her right arm, as he injected the serum he'd brought into her other side, she showed him a clear tattoo of a vine and a rose around her wrist.

"Great! You probably have Hep B as well," he answered, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I got it in my twenties at a reputable place in Ottawa, they were very safe, I did my homework. I like it though. They did an amazing job. Anyhow, I just wanted to show you my little spontaneous side. Everyone has one. Don't sweat it. Ah! There's my ride!"

She looked up the street as Penhale's little blue police van pulled up in front of them. As he put it in park, he immediately jumped out and ran to Sarah's side.

"My prince in shining armor!" Sarah joked.

"Are you OK? Where to doc?" Joe asked as he came over to her side and looked up at Martin beside them.

"Take her to Waybridge, it's the closest to here. I've already called ahead for you."

"Thank you, doc. Ready, honey?" He asked.

Martin's eyes grew big at the words as he leaned over and Sarah and they shared a brief kiss in front of him. It made a confirmation of the new relationship.

Sarah grinned as she saw Martin's stunned expression.

"Joe, can you just wait for me in the car, I'll be right there."

As Joe turned and went back to get his seat and kept the vehicle warm, Sarah turned to Martin.

Leaning over to him, she whispered in his ear. "You may not be the easiest person to love, but it's not impossible to. Thank you."

With that, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Breaking away, she waved and joined Joe, who drove off with her down the road.

Martin smiled – she was OK, he thought, he was glad he had a new friend in town himself.

(A few days pass, with relative calm. Martin had grown a bit disgruntled with the demands of his high-priced Lexus. Finding parts for the vehicle in this part was never easy and now his transmission was in need of repair. As it was in the shop, he had to travel to most areas on foot):

But, this day would prove an exception.

Around noon, there was a call to the practice, Pauline picked it up.

"Portwenn Surgery. Oh hey, Bert. What? When? Yeah, OK, well ask her to raise up her foot on a stool and try not to move. I'll get the doc!"

She saw Martin emerge from his office just as he was letting out a patient.

"Doc! It's your aunt – she hurt her foot – Bert thinks she broke her ankle!"

His eyes became alert when he realized it was family involved. "Where are they?"

Pauline picked up the phone. "Bert, are you at Joan's farm?"

Martin came over to stand at Pauline's desk and he took the phone from her hand before she could finish getting directions.

"Bert – what happened? She did what? OK, I'm on my way! Pauline, cancel all my appointments."

She nodded and then stopped him as he was about to head out the door.

"Martin, your car!" She called across the room.

He cringed a bit at her use of his first name in front of patients when he suddenly recalled his Lexus and it took precedence in his mind.

As he got set for her to call a cab as it was his only option, Pauline suddenly sat up.

"My scooter! We could take that!"

Now he thought she'd clearly lost her mind.

"Is this the same scooter that nearly took out Mrs. Embry about a year ago when you drove it across her garden?"

Pauline looked at him strangely. "I just spooked her cat."

"That she was holding!"

"Give me a break, I was havin' gear shift problems. It's fixed. Look, your aunt needs us –"

"That settles it – you've gone insane."

He turned and walked out the door without another word.

Grumbling under her breath, Pauline jumped up from her desk past a few startled patients to chase him outside.

She watched him march off down the stone steps in his own indignant style and so she shouted after him.

"You'll never make it there on foot!"

"I'll be fine and call a cab at the bottom of the hill, at least I will arrive in one piece!"

"So damned stubborn!" She cursed and disappeared back into the clinic.

He looked rather smug as he grinned to himself, happy for at least one small victory. He kept on walking along, set on his path and determined to reach a cabbie on his cell after the long trek downhill when he heard a little sound of beeping behind him. He knew instantly it was Pauline on the scooter.

Soon she drove up abreast with him on foot and tried to slow her bike a bit, though admittedly she was pretty wobbly.

"Get on!" She insisted, her helmet making her head look ten times it's size and her gypsy skirt swishing in the wind.

"No!" He shouted and kept on walking.

"Come on! It'll be faster. You know Tommy is too slow with his cab. Stop arguing!"

"Pauline, leave me alone – go back to the clinic, I can't believe you just up and abandoned the patients!" He yelled in return, he looked over at her to make sure she wouldn't run him down in the process of their argument.

"You do it all the time!"

"Within reason! Go back to the clinic!" He shouted and then began to walk a little faster, obviously trying to lose her.

"No!" She yelled defiantly, but she was noticing him getting away.

So she sped up her bike and charged ahead after him again.

Now folks from the clinic found that the entertainment outside was drawing them to the landing to watch the drama unfolding.

As he could hear her approaching him on her bike, he began to start to break out in a run or as fast as his patent-leather shoes could take him. He sure could move when he wanted to.

In exasperation, Pauline put the pedal to the metal and pulled out directly in front of Martin. He stopped short, almost running headlong into her.

"Pauline!" He gasped, jumping back slightly. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Get on!" She demanded.

"I told you no – go away!"

"Please!"

"I refuse to ride on this claptrap with no helmet and not being able to drive!"

She began to laugh and could see he was serious, and stopped. "Have you ever driven a scooter before?"

"No," he answered, plainly.

"Then, strap a pot on your freakin' head and hang on – my bike, I'm drivin'! Get – on!" She shouted as forcefully as she could.

Cursing abusively and muttering something else, he finally jumped on behind her. She barely let him get settled in to the tiny, narrow seat with his arms around her waist and his case against his stomach when she suddenly lurched forward and took off.

People watching at a distance gasped in shock at her sudden recklessness and the fact that the doctor went along with her on this wild ride. They then began to giggle in disbelief, knowing full well they'd never see anything like that again.

"Easy! Easy! For God sakes Pauline!" They heard him shout as they motored off down the ride.


	13. Chapter 13

**NOTE: Very long update, but not quite over yet – more still to come. There is a couple of scenes I borrowed from the original show that I altered just a bit. I hope you like it – be prepared for an appearance from someone a little later down the page.**

(Several miles out of Portwenn on the road to Haven Farm, Joan's place. It had been a crazy ride and Pauline was not making it easy for Martin):

One point on the country road, well into a turn – she nearly knocked Martin clear off into the weeds when she took it too tight and didn't slow down.

"What in God's name are you doing?" He shouted as he looked flustered, the wind blowing in his face abusively, he swore that he nearly swallowed a fly around the last stretch.

"Shut up! I know how to drive!" She snarled as she was nearly there.

"Is that what you call it?" He replied and started cursing in her ear as he tried hard to hold onto his medical bag and her at the same time.

Finally, they arrived up the laneway to his aunt's. They could see Bert's van parked outside.

Martin was grateful to be on terra firma once more, though he was so ungainly on his feet he nearly fell to the ground. For a moment he stood there pondering Large's vehicle and wondering why he hadn't brought Joan into the surgery himself. Shaking his head disagreeably, he started for the door.

"See! I got you here in one piece!" Pauline announced, proudly as she followed him.

He just glared at her, bitterly and then knocked on his aunt's door.

It was Bert who answered.

"Bert," snarled Martin in greeting.

"She's in the back room! I – where's your car, doc? Hey, how did you get here!"

Pauline walked in, still fully chuffed. "He rode with me!"

Bert had to chuckle and as he walked along beside the tall doctor when Pauline went ahead, he muttered – "Death wish?"

Martin didn't indulge him, instead he went towards the back to find his aunt sitting in the living room with her leg propped up on a chair and a pack of ice slung across her swollen ankle. To his dismay, he found she had merely sprained it while reaching for a high shelf for something and fallen.

He began to chastise her to everyone present, when she finally spoke up for herself.

"I'm family, Marty or does that not matter to you?"

"You abuse that privilege far too much it seems!" He snapped back, putting his medical case together and giving Bert a dirty look.

"And just who looked after you not that many summers ago when the neighborhood boys were picking on you? Huh? Who cleaned up your cuts and bruises when they cornered you that one day."

He seemed flustered and embarrassed at the memory. "Yes, thank you for reminding me."

"You're welcome!" She answered, defiantly. "I'll be fine. I told Bert it wasn't necessary to call you, but he was worried about me. I'm more worried about Buddy!"

"Did he caused the fall? Meddlesome mutt!" Martin snarled, looking around himself so that he could kick the errant terrier from here into next year.

"No he did not!" Joan shot back. "What I mean is with me laid up and Bert busy at the restaurant, there will be no one to take care of him for the next few days."

"It's alright, my love – I can handle the little guy for you. It would be no trouble at all." Bert piped up, he leaned on the armrest of his fiancée's chair.

Martin tried to hide his slight disdain for him. He still had a hard time getting used to Bert and his aunt.

Joan patted Bert's leg, fondly. "No Bert, thank you – but I don't want him scampering all over your busy restaurant, he'll just be in the way."

"I'll take him!" Pauline suddenly chimed in, a little over enthusiastically. She put her arm around Martin's waist, he was going to nudge her away but given that his aunt and Bert already knew of their relationship, he allowed it for the moment.

"You most certainly will not!" He protested. "I don't want that creature anywhere near my room!"

"Fine! That's a good idea actually – you can sleep on the sofa downstairs and the dog can sleep in the bed with me!"

Bert covered his mouth as he started to chuckle at her reply. She certainly was feisty.

Martin shot him a look.

"He can come with me, Joan, it will be fun!" Pauline said. "Where is he?"  
She started to wander through the room looking for the dog, when her boyfriend started to chase after her. "Pauline, leave it – we can't take it back on your scooter!"

"There's room!"

"Nonsense! I'm not carrying that thing in my lap and I'm not riding back on your – hellish contraption. In fact, I'm not going anywhere with you on that thing ever again. Bert, would it be possible to go back to Portwenn with you in your van?"

Bert sat up. "Uh, sure – in fact, why don't I just put the scooter on the flatbed and you can both ride with me in the cab. It'll be a cinch."

"And, why could you not do that with my Auntie Joan?"

"Because I'm home already Marty! Why would I need to go anywhere?"

"You should have come to the surgery where I could treat you!"

"So it would be more convenient for you, you mean?" Joan started up, arguing once again with her arrogant nephew.

"Oh for God sakes – nevermind. I don't know why I bother!"

A few moments later, he disappeared into the hallway to get a glass of water and settle his nerves, he decided to say goodbye to his aunt and track down Bert to get back to the village when he overheard him and Pauline speaking near Joan's bedroom. It sounded like it was denigrating into an argument.

"Bert, don't bring that up – this has nothin' to do with anythin' anymore!" She complained.

"A wager is still a wager, my girl – I need to pony up. You've done well, though I still have yet to hear him laugh."

"Bert, drop it!" Pauline warned, firmly.

Martin realized they were talking about him and his blood turned cold – was this relationship she'd formed with him nothing but part of a bet?

She came out of the side room and headed for the front door. Martin quickly receded behind the door frame of the kitchen.

Out of sight, she passed right by him and his heart fell. Such a deep sense of betrayal permeated his mind.

The ride back to Portwenn was unusually quiet for Pauline and Martin, which was fine for Bert as he talked up a storm about everything under the sun. She looked over at Martin in concern a few times, trying to touch his hand which he kept drawing away from her. She figured he was just mad about having to travel all the way out to the country for a non-emergency and left him be.

But later that evening while Martin was fixing the supper he promised Pauline, he was hacking away at some poor fish on the counter with such passionate intent that she became a bit alarmed.

As she stood behind him after having taken a shower upstairs and was proceeding to dry her hair with a towel in her robe, she finally spoke up.

"Is something wrong?"

He just ignored her, his back still turned. "No!"

"Oh come on, I know you well enough by now – you can tell me."

His tone was clear as he answered her. "Yes, I suppose you studied all there is to know about me, didn't you? Had to know your subject!"

"I'm sorry about your aunt and the scooter ride today. I should have been more careful. If you give me another chance…"

He finally turned to her, his eyes seemed dead as he glared into hers without emotion. "I'm done giving you those!"

Now she could feel a little chill run up her spine, she had never seen him quite this angry before.

"Doc, what's going on?"

"Why don't you go ask your good friend – Bert!" He shouted and walked past her to get something in a cabinet across the room.

She dropped her hand and gripped the side of the dining table. She could almost feel her legs give out beneath her – he'd heard. Oh no! She closed her eyes for a moment.

"He's got such a big mouth," she muttered. "What? You think what we've got together is due to a lousy bet?"

He glanced up at her. "You tell me!"

"So all of this has been what – fake? Is that it? Me telling you I love you. Us having sex, sharing personal secrets – for what – 60 quid? You must be joking me!"

He came to the table and dropped a cutting board soundly on the hardwood, causing her to jump slightly. "I'm tired of your games, Pauline – everything is a joke to you, isn't it? How could I be taken in by your blatant attempts to coerce me to…"

"To what? You make me sound like some whore – just spreading my legs for anyone who will pay me! Son of a bitch!"

"I see, now your true colors come out! Gambling ran in your family, why shouldn't I be surprised that it still runs in your blood. No doubt you go through men like you go through the tissue on your desk, charming them with that half-baked wit of yours – I don't know how they can make anything intelligible when you talk like Minnie Mouse!"

"Excuse me?" She hissed, feeling her back up.

"Even I fell for it…but you used me…"

Suddenly he couldn't speak, and turned to go back to his fish which he attacked with a renewed relish.

She came near to him, but avoided touching him.

"That's what I am after all, some cheap looking, twenty something," she snarled and he could feel cold at her quote of him "– has sex with anything on two legs – right? That's what my mother always told me and you just proved it! You were only clinging to me because Louisa broke your heart right – just needed a fuckin' warm place to put it!"

Martin stopped cutting when he heard her surprisingly cutting remark about herself, something she never revealed to anyone that he knew of. He almost felt his heart turn a bit, but then ignored it.

"But, you – you're no treat either!" She snarled, her eyes welling up with angry tears when she noticed he wasn't turning to comfort her. "You're a cold, arrogant and selfish bastard! I should have been dating a man!"

He turned around at her last word and looked at her finally in confusion.

"That's right!" She continued. "Did you ever stop to wonder why Louisa went out with you? Huh?"

"Shut up Pauline, don't drag her into this!" He hissed, his teeth gritting as she didn't abate for one moment.

"Why – she's always with us – every single moment! It's because she treated you like one of her students – she felt sorry for you! I…"

She wanted to go on but broke down in tears…

"But, it's all bullshit – I'm tired of trying anymore! You know what – you win!" Pauline cried, feeling weak now.

"Then get out!" He shouted at her.

His eyes were red too and he was nearly crying but his anger prevailed.

It was eerily familiar to the time he fired her, but now it was much more personal.

Grabbing up her towel, she went running from the room to gather her clothes upstairs and leave without another word.

Martin closed his eyes tightly and could feel the tears making their way to the surface. He didn't have the strength to stand anymore and so he sank down in a nearby chair and put his head down on the table. Crying hard into the wood, he only stopped briefly to hear his front door slam. It was over.

(About fifteen minutes later, Pauline charges into Large Restaurant like a woman on a mission):

Bert was standing in the living room when she met up with him.

Suddenly, she ran up, tears in her eyes and started beating against his chest and arms with her small fists.

"You big-mouthed, stupid, fish-breathed tosser!" She yelled, totally enraged. "You idiot! How could you do that to me? What – you hate me? Huh? Do you? You can't stand us being happy! Tosser! Stupid tosser!"

He grabbed a hold of her flaying arms and tried to hold her still. "Pauline, what on earth are you doing? Calm down! Pauline! Girl – get a grip!"

But as he did, she suddenly broke down and fell to the floor, literally destroyed and crying profusely.

"What – what is this? Is this the doc? Talk to me, Paul!"

All she could do was fall into his arms as he reached over to embrace her. The mascara was running down her lovely face as he lifted her eyes to him.

"He hates me now – all because of the your stupid bet!"

"Oh God!" Bert lamented. "Look, he just needs cooling down – we'll go talk to him in the morning – everything will be OK. You leave it up to…"

With that last statement, Pauline pushed him away and ran up the stairs to her room. All he could hear was her door slam.

(Three days pass and word traveled fast when folks found out that Pauline was no longer working at the clinic, but Martin went on as if nothing was wrong and still saw patients. He quickly called Poppy, a girl that had been temporarily assisting him in the past when Pauline had been in for phlebotomy training):

Poppy came as soon as the doctor called – he more or less told her to and since she knew that her mom would be disappointed if she turned down good money, she went without another word to her.

Frankly, the doctor sort of terrified her a bit. He'd been always gruff and knew that more than likely time wouldn't have changed that – and sure enough it didn't.

The moment the pretty and timid, 20-something blonde came through the front door, Dr. Ellingham was already standing at her desk waving some files at her.

"You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago!"

"Sorry, doctor, I came as quickly as I could – you just called me half an hour before. I ran the whole way."

"Fine. I need to find out who my next patient is and – the former receptionist – created this mess of a scheduling system. But given that she did it – it makes sense!"

Poppy gulped a bit, he was in a fine mood as usual. Like a church mouse, she took her seat before him and looked at the PC.

"I think I know what she does. I used it when I was here. Oh here we go, Ms. Purcell is due to come in at 9:30."

"When she comes in, send her through," Martin confirmed and began to head for his office.

"Yes sir, whatever you say," she answered, meekly.

He turned back to her, ready to chew her out but found he couldn't. His heart was still a little tender from his recent heartbreak and so his tone changed.

"Poppy, relax – I don't bite," he whispered.

She raised her eyes in surprise and smiled softly at him. She knew from what folks were saying that he had been hurt and accepted his kindness.

"I'm sorry about you – and Paul…"

He just grumbled at the mention of her name and without another word, returned to his office – slamming his door.

Poppy knew it was the start of a long week.

(Later at 9:45, Ms. Purcell sat in next to Martin as he was checking her ear with a otoscope. She was prattling on about something involving family):

"So I told him, he doesn't know what I was talking about, so how can he claim to know what I'm thinking. He just went on with his insistence. Then he brought up the subject of my niece. I just about had enough of James and his nosy busybodying. I told him that Paula was about eight when that happened – so his notion is utter nonsense…"

As soon as the name of her niece passed her lips, Martin froze up and his eyes turned melancholy. He could feel his heart stand still. It was like someone had reached deep in him and stole it from him. He could feel the stark emptiness. His eyes stared off into the distance as he leaned forward a bit, lost in thought. All he wanted to do was know that she was in the next room, laughing in that lovely way that was all hers and to see her sea-green eyes staring up into his when he came to ask her who the next patient was as she shared a secret smile that was all his.

He never noticed the fact that he was shoving the narrow end of the otoscope so far into the patient's ear that she soon was screaming out in pain.

"What are you doing? Doc!" Ms. Purcell screamed.

Martin awoke to his senses and realized what was happening. He immediately took the scope out and tried to put a tissue from his desk up to her ear, it was starting to bleed. He could feel his stomach do somersaults at the sight.

As she cursed him out and then got up to leave, he followed her through the door.

There was such a sense of pure hope when he opened it, only to see Polly's innocent face at Pauline's desk instead.

He stood there in the doorway, just staring at her blankly for the longest time. His eyes looked confused and vulnerable. Poppy didn't know how to react.

"Doctor, are you alright?" She asked.

"The doctor?" Cried Ms. Purcell. "I'm the one bleeding and you're worried about the bloody doctor? This is the last time I'm coming here! I should sue you for malpractice!"

As the irate woman left, Martin just tried to fumble for something to say. Finally, he just whispered. "Who, Poppy?"

"Umm…Mr. Kresden."

He closed his eyes for a moment to gather himself again as an elderly man stood up at his name and went past the doctor into the office.

Mr. Kresden ended up consoling the doctor instead of being treated for his rheumatism as he could see that Martin's mind was elsewhere. He said very little to the elderly man, except a curt and quiet thank you.

As the man left, he stopped to pat the younger man on the shoulder.

"I hope things work out for you, son," he said. "Just don't give up on her. I would have never married my wife of 40 years, God rest her soul, if I had."

Martin glanced up at him, his eyes nearly teary as he just nodded, feeling numb.

When he returned to speak to Poppy, he told her to cancel all the rest of the appointments for the day, to gather up her things as he was closing down the clinic.

She looked a bit confused, but did as she was asked.

"Thank you, Poppy," he whispered.

After she left, he took to his rooms where he remained for the rest of the day.

(Back at Bert's place, things weren't much better as a week of the separation kept up):

Pauline had refused to show her face all day, instead remaining in her room upstairs, locked away like some hermit with only the dog to keep her company.

Bert did his best to try to talk through the door to her, but he could see he wasn't making any headway. Eventually he got the point of leaving her breakfast, lunch and dinners on a tray outside her door – begging for her to come back to the land of the living.

At one point, he heard a tiny voice beyond the door saying "I miss him…"

So he spent an hour trying to console her, finally she came out and he took her into his fatherly arms for a hug. But when he tried to convince her to go talk with the doc, she snapped at him and took off to parts unknown on her scooter, not returning until well after midnight.

It was the lights and familiar sound that drew Martin to his window that night as Pauline passed. He saw her stop the little vehicle and put it in park at the foot of the landing to the cottage.

For a moment, standing there in his pajamas with his room bathed in darkness, he held his breath as he looked down at her, the lights coming off the harbor reflected on her face.

She seemed to start for the steps but stopped, and instead was frozen in place for several minutes, unsure what to do.

His eyes turned tender – he was willing her to do it, make the climb to his door so that he could take her back – but then, was either of them really ready? After all that had been said – hurtful accusations and remarks that still cut both of them deeply.

She gazed upwards and thought she could see him, but then thought it was her imagination. Her eyes betrayed her as they began to fill with tears, tearing his heart in two as he watched her.

Lowering them, she got back on her bike and vanished on down the street.

Martin's own eyes welled up with tears as he gulped a bit and closed them. Another lonely night without her.

Going to his cell phone he picked it up, and like instinct called her number. But, as he heard her pick up, he quickly hung up.

Tossing it down on the end table, he tried to lie down for sleep – but knew it was a pointless exercise. He hadn't been able to sleep for several days now, only sporadically being able to catch bite size moments of rest.

The phone rang a few minutes later, he picked it up to see it was from her, but refused to answer. When he noticed she'd left a message, he hit the delete button and rolled over to try to forget the number and Pauline…

(The next morning at the restaurant):

Pauline finally decided to show her face, but she looked haggard and groggy as she trudged through the kitchen in her nightshirt and bicycle shorts. She noticed Bert come in as she fixed herself some cereal, she was carrying Buddy in one arm.

"Ah, decided to put in an appearance, good for you, my girl. How's the little guy?"

"Good company!" Pauline admitted, smiling down at the little dog.

Bert came over to the terrier and tickled him behind his ear.

"Pauline! How are you dear? Buddy, there he is!" Joan announced as she came up behind Bert in her nightgown. She'd obviously stayed for the night. She gave Buddy's head a kiss and Pauline's shoulder a little stroke. The dog got excited so Pauline put him down.

Pauline tried to hide her envy a bit as she knew that the fact they were both here would mean as well that she'd hear a lecture on her 'relationship'.

"I thought I'd make the effort. Good morning Joan. It feels weird though, I usually am at work at this time of the day," she said, feeling a bit melancholy.

"Well, little worry of that then," Bert replied.

"How do you mean?"  
"The doc, he hasn't opened the surgery for a fortnight or so they say. Isn't that right, Joanie?"

Pauline looked alarmed as she listened. "What? That can't be!"

"No, he's right Paul, Marty decided that he wasn't up to it," Joan said, sitting down with a rather smug smile on her face. She knew it would get to the young girl.

"But, he never closes – not when there are patients."

Joan just shrugged.

"He's been a blue funk, my lover," Bert said, and reached over to stroke Joan's hair. "Need some milk?"

Pauline shook her head and wandered back to her room with Buddy obediently following her along.

Bert looked over at Joan. "You didn't want to say something to her to change her mind and tell her he still loves her?"

"They have to learn to sort this out themselves, Bert…I think they will, just give them time."

"You're willing to wait that long?"

"I think we've done enough."

Bert just looked at her in disbelief.

"Well, if they need our help later…"

He just chuckled and leaned in to kiss her. "That's my Joanie!"

(Later that day):

Pauline mulled over the words that Bert told her as she played with her cell phone while lying on her stomach on the bed. Buddy was at the end of the bed, playing with her bare feet and wrestling with her big toe.

She was getting tired of having the only man in her bed being the dog of late, but she realized that it was really over now between her and Martin.

She'd hurt him, the things she'd said to him she couldn't take back.

He would have been better off married to Louisa.

It was then that she was struck by an idea. Going over to find her little laptop she had tucked away behind some of her clothing in the corner of the room, she brought up some information on her screen for Moffats School in Worcestershire. She found a phone number for the main reception and decided to give it a try.

Ringing it up on her cell, she waited until she heard someone answer.

"Hi, yes, I'm lookin' for Ms. Louisa Glasson – is she in today?"

(Two days later at the clinic, Martin decides to put in a full day and see if he can't get on with business as usual):

It was between patients when Poppy peeked in to see if she couldn't offer the doctor some tea. Normally he'd snap at her for going against his hard and fast rules of the clinic, but in this instance, he caved.

"Yes, that would be fine – thank you Poppy."

She looked surprised and just nodded in response. As she was leaving his office, Buddy ran in past her heels and up to Martin's desk.

"Oh what – get out – who let you in here?" He barked at the poor animal, who simply sat there wagging his tail in happiness at his feet.

He was about to push him away when his phone rang.

"Yes?" She shouted into the receiver.

"Martin?" Came a very soft, familiar voice over the other end.

His breath was caught in his throat as he couldn't speak for a moment – it couldn't be.

"Louisa?"

Then there was a long silence when finally Louisa summoned the courage to say something.

"It's nice to hear your voice again."

"Yes," was Martin's simple reply.

"So how are you?" She asked.

"Good."

"Good," she echoed. He could hear her sigh a little in exasperation on the other end, but chose to ignore it.

"I heard about your appointment," Martin blurted out. "Congratulations."

"Thank you, it came as a surprise to me as well, as I'm sure you'd know. But, I'm enjoying it here."

"Are you?" He asked, almost wishing she'd miss him just a bit or regret her decision – but she didn't.

Suddenly, Buddy tried to jump in his lap.

"No! Go away!" He snarled, pushing the dog aside.

"Sorry?" Asked Louisa in confusion.

"No, not you – it's the dog."

"Ah, Buddy still following you around is he?"

"Yes."

"So – how are things in Portwenn for you of late?" She asked him, hoping to generate more than single word responses from him.

"Ah – fine. Same as always."

That went over like a lead balloon.

"Good."

Silence again.

Then, Buddy turned a bit aggressive and tried once more to leap into his lap.

"I told you no!" Martin screamed and shoved him aside more roughly.

"Martin – why did you ask me to call you? You sound as if I'm bothering you or something?" Louisa snarled over the line and it became apparent she was losing her patience.

He was confused as he looked up, his mind trying to grasp her words.

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did – I just got a call from Pauline the other day, she told me that you were asking for me, so I thought I'd give you call."

Martin held the phone a little tighter. He didn't understand – why would she do something like that? Why would she insist Louisa call? He was confused and thunderstruck at the mere mention of her.

It suddenly dawned on him as Louisa went on talking that he couldn't hear her anymore, all he could think about was Pauline. How much he wish she were here now, so that he could talk to her instead over the phone.

Then, like a light – the realization of her reason for calling Louisa came to him – she wanted him to be with the woman she thought made him happy before. She was sacrificing her own happiness for his.

Tears began to flood his eyes as finally he heard Louisa again.

"Martin? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"I'll be in town the day after tomorrow, we can go get a drink together and talk for awhile as I have some business to attend to on my former house. I know you don't drink, but we can always have something else. Would that be alright?"

Now he couldn't think straight and all he could say was. "Yes, that's fine."

"OK, I'll talk to you soon – take care of yourself, Martin – it was nice to hear you again."

"You too," he muttered and said his goodbyes as he hung up.

Once more Buddy jumped up. Martin didn't have any fight left in him and at last he just patted the dog on the head in hopes it would appease him, knowing he'd have to wash his hands afterwards as the mutt would be teaming with germs.

It was then he noticed a little, rolled up piece of paper in Buddy's collar.

Reaching down, he plucked it free and now Buddy sat back – as if he had done his job and was pleased with himself.

Martin looked at him as if he was telling him something and opened the paper to see it was a note.

In Pauline's handwriting, he read -

'Tell her you love her.'

He rolled his eyes upwards as the tears now were streaking his cheeks. Buddy whined seeing his sorrow and curled up at his feet.

(Three days pass, it's a bright, sunny summery afternoon and we see a few seagulls flying over the nearby shore):

Pauline is walking up the hill to Bert's restaurant when she sees the teenage girl group approaching her going down the opposite direction. She seems a bit in a daze, but she manages to hear some of the conversation.

One of the girl's see her.

"'Oh look, there's Pauline!'"

"'Think she heard about' the doc?" Another asks, smiling at the petite redhead.

"'No, of course not. He's a proper lover boy. What with him sneaking around…'"

Pauline listens in shock as they walk by. She finally turns to them.

"'What was that about' the doc?'" She asks.

"'You not heard about him and Louisa?'" The taller of the teen girls asks and giggles a bit.

"'We saw them.'"

"'Together.'"

More giggling is heard amongst them like hyenas gathering around a kill.

"The doc was hugging her."

"'She must know…'"

They start talking together and wander off down the road, leaving the poor, bewildered Pauline with a lot to deal with.

She can still hear them. "'Everyone knows…'"

As she gets back to the restaurant, she sees Bert in the kitchen as she goes past.

"Ah there she is, my love, you have a call from the clinic!"

But, she ignores him and instead runs up to her room and slams the door.

Bert just shakes his head in disbelief. "The course of true love!"

Walking up the stairs after her, he doesn't hesitate to open the door where he sees Pauline laying on her stomach, fully dressed and crying on the bed.

"Bert! Get out!"

"Now, now – I think you need to talk to someone. You shouldn't be alone in this state."

She glared hard at him. "I'm not your daughter, OK – don't treat me like I'm five years old!"

"I care about you, Paul – I don't care if you aren't. I'm allowed to be worried about you."

He came over to sit next to her on the bed. She didn't say anything more as she jumped up and hugged him.

"Louisa's back, isn't she?" She said, her voice tiny and trembling.

Bert's heart broke as he held her a little tighter.

"I heard," he replied. "Cab brought her in, she's at the Crab, she's staying there for a few days."

He pushed Pauline away from him a little.

"But you don't worry your pretty little head about that, alright, he loves you – he's not going back to her."

She tried to nod, bravely, but she knew otherwise.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Pauline cried and hugged him again.

He squeezed her back. "Apology accepted. Listen, I have news for you – I think you'll like it. It's from the doc."

She broke away from him as he gave her a tiny note.

"He called, he says he'd like you to come in for a few hours today to do some phleb – phleb…take blood. And, also since it's the flu season coming, he was wondering if you could poke some people. He said to wear your white lab coat."

Now Pauline was even more confused. She didn't give people shots for the flu. But, she didn't care – all that mattered at the moment was he wanted her there.

She gave Bert another big hug, he smiled and patted her back.

"You better hurry, my darlin' – it's nearly 10:30 now."

"Yeah! Yeah!' She chanted and ran for her closet.

Bert left her room.

After she'd gotten changed, she picked up her cell and dialed Sarah's number at the Crow. She knew she'd just got out of hospital a week ago and wanted to see if she'd come by the clinic for moral support. She knew she'd need it today.

(Later that afternoon at the cottage clinic):

Martin was even more pensive than usual as he went about his day. Why was it taking so long? Didn't Bert deliver the message? Why had he told Large at all? He knew how unreliable the man could be. He probably left it on the counter somewhere and forgot to give it to Pauline altogether.

As he was mulling over his thoughts and hanging a little too long in the lobby to cover for Poppy while she was at lunch – the door opened.

"Hey there, doc!" Came a familiar, sweet-sounding voice – but not the one he was expecting…

It was Sarah who greeted him in the entrance.

"Ah – it's you," Martin muttered, a bit disappointed.

"Well, glad you're happy to see me and everything," she quipped as she lowered her purse and sat down on the window seat across from where he was leaning over Poppy's desk looking for past phone messages.

"Just wanted to say – thanks for coming by to follow-up with me in the hospital, sorry I was so drugged up on what they were giving me to respond to you. I did know you were there, that's what counts."

He just nodded and stood up to go back to his office when the door to the clinic opened once more.

This time it was Pauline.

His heart stood still when he saw her face and she felt a tell tale blush come to her cheeks when she stepped through the threshold. Their eyes were soft as they took one another in, not sure what to do and say – just happy to be in one another's presence and for the moment, that seemed to be enough.

She had no idea how much he wanted to tell her he had forgotten all that they had argued about and take her into his arms. Or how much she wanted to throw caution to the wind, fight his urge to push her away as she kissed his full lips with hers and will away the pain.

Sarah watched the look the two were sharing and tried to blend into the background. There was so much love there and so much pain, she wanted to say something but instead didn't.

Finally, Martin just grumbled something, returned to his senses as he turned on his heel and walked off to the kitchen.

Pauline caught her breath and she glanced over to Sarah. She smiled bravely and wandered a little lost over to her old desk to pick up her pen and pad.

"Oh Paul, stop fussing – go – go – " Sarah scolded, waking her up a bit.

She didn't need to be convinced as she ran off to the kitchen, but then slowed down as she reached the hall.

Pauline quietly walked in behind Martin who stood with his back to her, as he was heating up an espresso. He had his left hand clutched behind his back. She knew he realized she was there, but remained stoic and still as a statue.

She wandered over to the kitchen table to set down her pad of paper she was holding.

"'Ah – Miss Glasson's back then…'" she replied, her voice lonely in the room.

There was no response from him.

She walked up to the counter alongside of him, glancing over to see what was so important that he was doing and then picked up a pen near some files that he'd put down while he was busy. She began to try it on an empty scribble pad as she continued to talk to herself.

"'Yeah – yeah, staying at the Crab'."

She played more with her pen to see if it would work idly and then dropped it back into the canister and chose a different one as she went on.

Martin bends down under the sink for a filter for the machine and comes back up to gather up a small, blue china cup for the espresso.

He listens to Pauline's words while gritting his teeth, knowing her part in all of this.

"'…In her own village, paying for shelter.'"

Martin puts the filter in the sink.

"'A room at the inn…'"

Finally Martin looks up and responds to her petty inquiry.

"'She's rented her house out.'"

"'I know…'"

She looks over at him but finds it frustrating and bats her eyelashes in nervous energy, she pauses and then says. "'Did you not see her then?'"

Martin glares at her angrily as he grabs his cup of espresso a little tighter in his hands.

"'What?'"

"'Miss Glasson? I heard the taxi dropped her off around here.'"

He raises the cup up but doesn't drink anything.

"'Ah, she did call in briefly – to say hello.'"

"'Hello,'" Pauline parrots, rather prickly in her tone.

"'Ah – uh – then she went to the pub, as had always been her plans, so it seems – not that it's any of your business! Or anybody else's!'"

Now she was dumbfounded. "Not my business, how can you stand there and say that to me?"

He put down his cup loudly on the counter. "That's right. You know all about this, don't you? How dare you meddle in my personal affairs!"

"What? Because I'm just your receptionist? No – correction! I'm not even that anymore – I'm just your lousy phlebotomist!" She shouted.

Flinging down her pen, she turned and ran from the kitchen to the other part of the lobby without another word.

Martin sighed, what was he thinking asking her to come in today when it was so obvious that the wounds were still too fresh? His need to see her and emotions had overtaken him.

He had to keep professional now. Abandoning his espresso that he hadn't even tasted on the counter, he went to his office to start for the day.

(Throughout the day):

Pauline went about her tasks taking blood and immunizing people with a cold efficiency. Sarah stayed for the day, resting a bit and helping Poppy where she could with medical issues and chatting with her.

She noticed a curious thing that fascinated her. Off and on through the day, she watched as Martin made several passes by the tiny room where Pauline was doing her thing to observe her. He didn't even need to many times, but he made the effort to go out of his way.

Sarah smiled, knowingly. It was obvious he still loved her. She wanted to go talk to him but thought that better of it. No, they had to find each other again.

At one point, he stopped by the door to see her poking Elisha Bentley, a local cafe owner. Pauline felt him watching her and turned to face him.

"Yes, doctor?" She snarled.

He felt nervous for a moment at the chill in her tone.

"I need to see you in my office after you're done. Bring your equipment."

"You need a shot too?" She said, flatly.

"Yes."

"Fine," she answered and ignored him again.

Elisha looked up at Martin in pity for a moment and then he walked away.

(A few minutes later, Pauline came into Martin's office):

It was with a professional air, that she sat down next to the doctor's chair as she asked Martin to roll up his sleeve so she could inject him.

As she took his bare arm in her hand to cradle it, she found that the touch of his skin felt so wonderful that before she knew it – her hand began to tremble.

Looking up into her face, he quietly reached over and took her hand to hold it in his and comfort her. But, all he really wanted to do was feel her again.

She gazed into his eyes as he moved a little closer and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

It was driving her crazy, but she had to resist him.

"Paul," he whispered, softly as he caressed her hand with his thumb.

"Please…stop," she begged.

"I can't," he whispered and drew her a little closer to him. As his lips were only inches from hers, she suddenly jumped up from her chair.

"I'm sorry, doctor, you'll have to find someone else to do this."

With that, she quickly left the office, shutting the door behind her.

Martin closed his eyes for a moment in defeat, he'd been so close and now it was over. Rolling down his sleeve, he hesitated and then decided to follow her to see if he could convince her to come back into the office to chat.

But, when he did, he heard a conversation taking place.

(Outside in the lobby):

Pauline was going back to her desk as Poppy was helping an elderly patient get up for her shot when the door to the clinic opened.

Who walked in made Pauline stop what she was doing and look up in shock.

It was Louisa Glasson.

Sarah saw her expression and looked over to see an attractive, brunette woman in her early 40s walk into the clinic. By her bearing and her confident smile, it didn't take much to figure out who this was. She was truly stunning and seemed to have a glow about her – little wonder she had such an effect on Dr. Ellingham.

"Pauline, how are you?" Louisa asked, trying to appear light as she wandered over to the desk.

"Oh hey – um – hi Louisa," she said, a little at a loss as she sat down. "I'm fine."

She glanced over at Poppy and asked her to remain across the room so that everything seemed like normal. Poppy just did as she was told, but patients looked over at her, confused as to what was happening.

Unseen to everyone, Martin who overhearing who just came in, has placed his ear up against the door to listen in.

Sarah stood up, "Maybe I should go, Paul."

Pauline gestured her to sit down. "No, it's alright, Sarah – you can stay."

Louisa looked over at the stranger in vague suspicion. Sarah tried to smile at her, but the cool smile she gave her in exchange made her immediately clam up.

"Are you here to see the doc?" Pauline asked, she could feel a thin vein of fear go through her as if she was losing him already and she knew it.

"No, actually I'm here to see you. Would you mind if we talked in private?"

"Yeah, I do. I'd like to stay here," Pauline answered, firmly as she glanced over at Sarah for support.

Again, Louisa glanced at her in curiosity.

"OK, that's fine. You probably heard that I spoke to Martin the other day?"

"Yes."

"It seems someone told him that I wanted to see him again. Pauline, why did you do that?"

She began to fidget and looked down at her desk. "I thought he'd like it, I think he missed you. In fact, I know he did – when you left, he was a mess. That's why I wanted you to call him."

"I see. I heard from some folks here in town that you and Martin are involved. Is that true?"

Pauline could feel her blood grow cold as the patients in the room watched her evolving expression. She felt humbled a bit and guilty at the same time.

Louisa was trying to keep her cool as she looked at her, the jealousy in her tone was showing through.

"Yes. But, that's because -"

"Because he was vulnerable and alone? I suppose this was the moral support you said he needed awhile ago?"

Suddenly Louisa took a deep breath.

"Pauline, I'm not mad at you, I…"

But, now Pauline felt her courage. "You don't think leaving him like you did had no effect on him? He was devastated – you were everythin' to him, the glue holdin' him together. And, then you left – and I just wanted to help him heal. He helped me too when Al left..."

"Do you love him?" Louisa said, softly as she gritted her teeth. Her soft, blue eyes started to well up a bit.

"I – "

"Pauline? Be honest with me."

"Yes, I do."

Martin smiled to himself as he continued to listen.

"Please – you need to know that Martin is a complicated man, Pauline. I loved him too once, a part of me still does. He tries, but then he hurts you and doesn't understand why. He says things and does things that…"

"No, he's not like that. He's a good man, he just needs someone who understands him. Someone who listens to him. He cares about me too, he listens to me and I can see his tender side – he feels a lot more than you think!" Pauline protested. "You treated him like a student, he is a grown man, not a little boy."

Martin swallowed his tears as he stroked the door, wishing he could go out to her.

"I know, Pauline – just be careful. I know you'll take good care of him, just listening to you now I'm sure. I know what I've walked away from. I have to go. But, one thing – if you see him, tell him I loved him."

Pauline braved a smile at her. "I will. Thank you, Louisa."

She stood up, not sure if she'd be willing to, but she walked up to her. Within minutes, both women were embracing.

After a few moments of goodbye, Louisa glanced over to smile warmly at Sarah and then left the clinic.

Pauline turned and Sarah gave her a little cheer as she hugged her friend too.

Standing up, she gathered up her purse. "I think I'm going to go take her out for a drink, poor gal – I think she could use someone to talk to – why don't you go talk to Martin. He's been listening at his surgery door. I can see his shadow underneath against the light. I'll talk to you later, 'kay?"

Pauline smiled at her. "Thanks for everything, Sarah!"

"Anytime!"

Pauline walked over and gave Poppy's cheek a little kiss. "Thanks for helping out around here, kiddo."

Poppy grinned. "You're welcome, Pauline."

As she approached the doc's door, she could hear a distinct sound of feet shuffling as if someone was retreating. Snickering to herself, she opened it and stepped inside. Martin was standing next to his desk, his eyes slightly red with a mixed expression on his face.

Pauline stood by herself and looked down at the floor.

"You heard?"

"Yes."

There was a silence between them.

"You mad at me?"

He glanced up at her in surprise, his eyes tender.

"Close the door."

Turning around, she shut it behind her.

"Now, lock it."

She did as she was told, facing it to close the little latch.

That's when she felt him suddenly behind her, taking her into his arms from behind and burying his face in her sweet auburn hair.

"How could you think I could hate you – I love you."

She began to cry as she turned in his embrace and put her arms around his waist, burying her nose into his chest. He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"I love you too," she replied.

He brought her face upwards with his hand and immediately found her lips with his. The kiss was long, tender and bittersweet as he softly consumed her lovely mouth.

After which he whispered in her ear. "We should talk – a real talk. What do you think? We can book off a few hours, just go talk to Poppy."


	14. Chapter 14

(Later on, after a period of time had been blocked off for just the two of them):

Pauline sat across from Martin, unabashedly smiling at him on the verge of giggling, she was so happy again, she could barely contain herself.

"Pauline, please, this is serious!" He said, a little of his grouchy demeanor returning.

"I know, I know…" she said, still grinning from ear to ear.

He cleared his throat before he went on.

"I just wanted to say, I heard what you said to Louisa – and I was touched about how you feel about me, I have to admit – when you came to work for me, I was skeptical. All I saw was this hippy, 20 something…"

"I'm 32."

"You are?" He asked, stunned.

"I thought you read my CV?"

"I did. But, that was awhile ago, admittedly."

"You were saying?" She asked, tickled he found her younger.

"Ah yes – I just thought that you were – eccentric and outlandish. But, after you worked here, I realized that people who came into this office felt immediately calmed by your presence and they smiled more, and were generally easier to deal with – I knew that was your influence. I also found that you were actually, though a bit forgetful at times, very good at your job."

Pauline smiled, proudly and seemed to blush at his words.

"And, I've come to realize you are an exceptional woman that I'm even more convinced of since we've started going out."

"Oh doc…"

"It's true. And, I felt it even more today. But, you can still be at times – confrontational, unpredictable and a general pain in the behind."

She giggled a bit. "Well, I could say the same about you."

"Yes," he admitted. "I am now sorry I never changed your reference – you are more than competent – you're satisfactory."

Pauline started laughing a bit at his words. "Hee hee…you're so cute!"

He seemed to prickle at her praise. "No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are!"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"Just shut up and take the compliment, will you!" She snarled.

"I'm not a cute, cuddly little kitten!"

That just caused Pauline to laugh out loud. "You can say that again, though you do purr when I stroke you!"

"Pauline!"

"Sorry," she whispered, but snickered nevertheless.

"Well I meant what I said to Louisa about you, you know – I know there is a soft, and incredibly vulnerable man with a lot of tenderness in his heart, just wanting to have someone find it. I'm just happy it's me," Pauline confessed.

He smiled softly at her.

"I want to show you something," he replied and stood up to walk to the tall closet behind his desk. Unlatching it, he pulled out a tiny – surprise – mahogany box with gold inlay on the top and sat it between them on the desk. "I haven't shown this to anyone, not my aunt, not Edith or Louisa. You're the first."

Pauline's hand went up to her chest as she felt instantly honored. She blushed a bit at his trust in her.

"Here, bring your chair over here – I want you to see this," he whispered and held out his arm to her.

There was such tenderness in his tone now, that she couldn't resist. She took the chair she was sitting in and moved it over next to him. He opened the box to reveal several handwritten notes – but not in his handwriting. She was puzzled.

"What are these?" She asked him.

"I wrote these when I was fifteen years old. I've kept them ever since."

He handed her one, she glanced up at him to see his eyes were tender and so she read it.

On it it simply said 'Spend more time with Aunt Joan.'

Pauline smiled.

But it was a grave note that Martin to it. "I wrote that when my mother ignored me on that day, more so than usual and she told my father I had skipped school. Which I didn't. My father got so angry with me, he locked me in a cubby hole under the stairs and I had to skip dinner."

She looked up at him, with sadness in her expression as she listened.

"I guess – I take my aunt's love for me for granted sometimes, so when I do, I pull out this box – to remind myself not to."

He handed her another note.

'Want to become a professional chef.'

She looked at him in surprise.

"I never let on that I know how to cook and have lost my passion for it somewhat. Maybe because my father threatened me within an inch of my life if I didn't become a surgeon like him. He scared it out of me, I guess."

Pauline's heart was breaking as she reached over to stroke his shoulder and back. He tried to refrain from tears.

"I know how that is. My mother wanted me to be a dancer, but when I told her I didn't want to – she told me I was useless and disappointing to her. She still does sometimes, how I'd be married at 17 and raising some little brats. It wasn't much better when my dad was around. They were never married, she blamed that on me too. He left her when I was about eight years old, probably just as well – he was nothing but a drunk and they always argued. She said it was alright when she was single, gambling at the local casino and sleeping around – but as soon as she got knocked up with me and then my brother, her life changed. But, Adam was her little God – I was just her initial mistake. She did remarry this really nice guy who really ended up becoming my real dad, he was a fisherman, he wanted me to take over his boat someday – that's why I joined the coast guard patrol. He died when I was 20. I miss him, that's why it's nice having Bert around – but don't tell him I told you so or I'll never hear the end of it."

Martin smiled at her, but she looked down a bit at her feet and didn't know how else to go on.

He felt a lump in his throat as he put his finger under her chin to raise her eyes up to his. "I never knew we had that in common until now. I guess we've both been through hell and back."

She glanced up at him and then softly leaned forward and took him into her arms. "We used to be, but you're not anymore, we have one another. We're no longer those kids, we're adults and we can do what we want."

He grinned at her gentle words as she pulled her deeper into his embrace, kissing the incline of her neck and shoulder until he buried his nose into her skin. "I'm glad I have you beside me, Pauline."

"You always will. I'm not going anywhere."

She then hesitated. "What – what did your mother say to you that day when she was here? I saw you walk out and you looked so distraught…"

"I don't want to talk about…" he started and then he could see that he had to be open about everything. "She said that her life as a vibrant woman and wife was over when I was born – and that everything that went wrong for her in her marriage was because of me."

Pauline looked shocked. "Oh my God. She said that to you?"

"Yes," he confessed, his eyes shining with tears now.

"You know, it's a good thing she left when she did – or I'd have knocked her flat on her ass!"

He was the one in shock now. "Pauline! Yes – it's probably a good thing. Though – I have to admit – I would have liked to have seen that."

"I wouldn't be working for you anymore I'm sure – in fact, you may have run me out of town!"

He grinned at her and kissed her cheek. "Would have been a shame if I had."

"And I never thanked you for defending me against my own mom when she came in to rail against me that day when I was going through my gambling phase."

For a moment, Martin sat there to take it in – he had never done that with Louisa, and yet – he had with Pauline. He pulled her into his arms and held her again.

"You're welcome. OK, read some more."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He picked one of the notes for her, this one looked different though – it was in Martin's adult hand. All it said was…

'Marry -'

"Turn it over!" He insisted.

She held her breath as she flipped the paper over in her hand to read on the back.

'Pauline.'

Immediately she gasped and covered her lips with her hand, tears flooded her eyes as she stared at it and then him.

"I wrote it the evening after we first kissed. I knew even then."

"Oh my God…!" She whispered, her voice shaking.

"That is if you will have me?" He said, his own sounding uncertain.

She threw her arms around his neck and held onto him tightly, getting up off her chair she sat in his lap instead as he squeezed her waist in his strong arms.

"Yes, doc!" She whispered in his ear. "I'll marry you!"

(Later that night):

Supper had been decidedly a light affair, but she had to appreciate it more when she knew of his secret – she admitted he was actually pretty good at cooking fish.

After the food and dishes had been cleared, she took him by the hand and led him up to his bedroom upstairs. As soon as they walked through the door, they were kissing one another and slowly discarding each other's clothes as they did.

He surprised her, as bending down low, he scooped her up under her knees so that he cradled her naked body in his arms and carried her to his bed.

Before he did, he stopped near the window – no longer in fear of being observed, but loving how the moonlight bathed her in it's glow as he just held her close to him, feeling her warmth and her skin against his. He cried a bit into her bare shoulder.

"I love you so much," he whispered against her.

She covered his neck in kisses. "I know, I love you too. Make love to me, Martin."

Tenderly, he laid her down on top of the blankets of the bed and ran his hand down the length of her body in quiet appreciation. He loved how she trembled at his touch and how a thin coating of goose pimples rose up to meet his fingertips.

"You are so incredible," he breathed as he bent over to replace his fingers with his lips and gently kiss her belly and up her ribcage to capture her breast in his mouth as he bathed one of her nipples that stood at attention almost immediately. He kissed the other one, she rolled her head back in her pillow slightly.

She couldn't stand it any longer and reached up her arm to beg him to lay down with her. She tucked her legs under the blankets and held it back for him to join her. There was a sensation of heat as he did and she took his naked body into her arms. They shared a kiss as he gradually moved between her thighs and laid atop of her, so that she could feel the welcoming sensation of his full weight and the lovely sensation of his soft skin.

He leaned forward on his elbows so that he cradled her head between them, he stroked her silky, strawberry blonde hair as he stared down at her beautiful eyes. She put her arms around his back and softly smiled up at him.

Suddenly, as the quiet of the emotions and the tenderness of the peace between them overtook him, he began to cry. Tears stroked his cheeks as he closed his eyes for a moment.

"Oh Martin," she whispered, and raised herself up to kiss his eyelids and his cheeks. She pulled him forward even more and held him. Then, she began to cry too.

"I need you," he whispered.

She slowly separated her legs even more so that she wrapped them around his waist. He didn't need to say another thing as he moved up the bed a little bit and gently entered her.

It wasn't passionate like their last time together, but it meant so much more as she shuddered a bit and began to move with him as she could feel their bodies become one.

As the tempo picked up a bit, he gripped her tightly as he could hear her whimper a bit against his shoulder and they came together.

Afterwards, he rolled over and brought her to lay down with her cheek on his chest and gently stroked her shoulder as they just cuddled. She kissed his breast and he leaned over to kiss her hair.

"Goodnight, Pauline," he whispered.

"Night, doc."

With a permanent smile on his face, he laid back and fell asleep – the best sleep he'd had in quite some time.


	15. Chapter 15

(Over the course of the next few days, word traveled fast around Portwenn of the new engagement of the local GP and his wayward receptionist):

People were either blessing the couple or giving their wary advice, thinking it would probably go awry the way his engagement to Louisa Glasson did. But, Pauline just scoffed at the notion. Particularly when she told Sarah. Martin heard them squealing like two schoolgirls in the kitchen that day, all he did was turn on his heel and walk the other way, rolling his eyes.

She wasted no time taking on many of the preparations as Martin seemed leery of the whole thing. She immediately asked Sarah to be her bridesmaid and Bert offered to give her away.

She suggested to Martin that he consider someone to be his best man. He didn't want anyone at first and so she told him that perhaps Roger Fenn, his one friend from way back in the community could do it. But, Roger was no longer in Portwenn, having gone for physiotherapy in Wadebridge in order to further his career teaching music after his bout of throat cancer.

Sarah then spoke up and suggested Joe Penhale could do it. Joe was over the moon and honored, even though Martin hadn't even approached him – he told him that he'd be happy to help, as they were the 'dynamic duo' after all of the tiny village.

Sarah and Joan helped Pauline pick out a dress and of course, they urged Martin to break down and offer an engagement ring for Pauline – he almost gave her Louisa's old ring before Joan set him right.

Soon, plans were shaping up and it was becoming a reality a mere three week's later.

(The day of the wedding, it was cloudy and overcast with a slight fog hovering over the nearby hills – but nothing could dampen Pauline Lamb's happiness as she woke up next to her hubby to be):

As she rolled over to give him a kiss, his pager rang and it woke him up. He immediately sat up, completely ignoring his fiancee and took it instead.

"Yes?" He snarled, half asleep into the phone.

Pauline kissed his bare shoulder, instead – making him jump a little until he warmly accepted it as he tried to pacify her by kissing her cheek half-heartedly – she just rolled her eyes at him.

"When? And, she's where now? OK, wait for me at the clinic, I'll be right there – yes, don't go anywhere, I may need you for this."

Pauline looked a bit disgruntled, but then could overhear the voice on the other line – it sounded familiar.

"Was that Sarah?"

"Yes, it was – she got a call from Joe about Ms. Minafield out at Tregenna."

"That really obese woman? I remember her, we saw her a few times around town when I was a teen – I used to help carry her groceries, she was big even then. She's housebound these days."

"Yes, I guess she took up with the man who delivers her food and she ended up pregnant."

"Seriously, wow – that's like tabloid stuff!" She quipped, grinning a bit at the notion.

"Pauline, please, she's in a lot of pain and about to deliver, she also put out her hip."

"Wait a minute, we're getting married today – you can't be thinking of going out there right now?" She said, trying to pull him back down in bed as he was starting to get up.

"I don't have a choice in the matter!"

"But Tregenna is several miles away!"

"Pauline, if she goes into labor and I'm not there, she could die!" He argued, and pushed her aside.

She looked beside herself, but she also knew he was the only doctor around, except…

"Make sure at least that Sarah goes with you!" Pauline said, as she watched him get dressed.

"Yes, yes," he said and started to get into his pants.

"You know, she told me something – I wasn't going to tell you as it was sort of a surprise, but I think you should know."

He looked up at her, expectantly as he reached for his shirt.

"What?"

"She wants to become your locum."

He seemed startled and stopped what he was doing. "My what?"

"Locum, that's like a doctor who sits in for you when you're not there," she tried to explain.

Martin groaned. "Yes, Pauline, I know what a locum does. Why didn't she come to me with this?"

"She told me it was a wedding gift for us. Please don't tell I said…"

"Great," he muttered. "Why do women do this? It's like some sort of secret society, or something…"

"Give her a chance, alright."

He nodded and then was set to go but seemed to hesitate.

"What's wrong?" She asked. "You better go."

Martin walked across the room and sat down next to her on the bed. He touched her shoulder fondly as a look of gentleness passed over his expression, like day following the night. Leaning over he kissed it.

"I'm getting married today," he whispered to her, smiling.

"To me. And don't you forget it," she teased and took his face in her hand. She leaned in close and they shared a soft kiss before he regretfully had to get up to go.

"I won't be long," he promised, grinning at her still and walked out the door.

(About fifteen minutes later, Martin arrives on foot to the clinic where Sarah is waiting for him by the steps):

"We don't have time to waste, we'll take my car. Do you have her address?" He said, barely acknowledging her.

"Yeah I do, Joe gave it to me. He said it's hard to get to, I'm not familiar with these parts, so I'll let you lead the way. Have you ever helped a woman deliver before?"

"Actually, no," Martin admitted, looking a little blanched at the idea. "Have you?"

"Yes. A woman in my medical class, she was a student like me – she was like nine months pregnant, God knows what she was thinking of taking an intensive course like that and working all hours when she was about to drop any day – but I'm glad I was there to help. The baby came without any complications."

"Let's hope we'll have that kind of luck today," he replied. "I'll be right back, I just have to grab my medical bag upstairs."

"OK."

He went inside to go fetch it.

After a few minutes, he came back outside and urged her along. "We better get going, we don't have any time to spare."

She nodded and followed him out to his car.

"This is nice!" Sarah exclaimed as she started to get into it, not realizing what she was doing.

Martin stood by the right hand side of the car and glared hard at her through the window. Finally, he knocked on the glass.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, looking up at him and speaking through the window.

"I mean, you're on the driver's side – unless you intend to take us there, I suggest you move over!"

"Oh God, sorry – force of habit!" She exclaimed and opened her side door to get out.

"We're not in Canada anymore," he grumbled in irritation.

"I know, I know sorry!" She repeated and went around to what for her was normally the driver's side.

As Martin got into the car and buckled up, Sarah looked up at him. "By the way – how did Pauline take it?"

"How do you mean?" He said, starting up the engine.

"The wedding, Martin."

"She understands I'm a doctor and I have a job to do."

"On the day you're getting married to her!" Sarah replied.

"Your powers of observation are keen, I see," he grumbled and soon they were on the road. It already was proving to be a long ride for him.

(At Beverly Minafield's place, not far from the outer lying area of Tregenna):

Beverly's house was quaint but small, as much of the places in this lower part of Cornwall seemed to be. It was very quiet as they approached the house, it was then that Sarah grew concerned as she stepped out of the car.

"She doesn't seem to be around – I don't see her car or anything, and it looks as if the place is nearly deserted."

"You won't see her up and about too much," Martin muttered as he reached behind the seat to grab his black, medical bag.

"Why's that?"

"She's roughly four hundred pounds."

Sarah's eyes grew big. "Are you serious? And, she's carrying a baby on top of that – dear God – we're the ones to deliver it!"

She'd never done anything quite like this before and he could see a look of panic cross her expression momentarily.

"And here I was with the impression that you did well under pressure!" He quipped.

"Well excuse me, but this is sort of extreme circumstances. Where's your bag?" She asked, looking at his side for his case. He was holding on to it, pensively.

"Why?"

"I want to take a look at what you have in it."

"We don't have time for this!" He complained.

She ignored him and ran across the lawn to take it from his hand.

"It's not like she's going anywhere!" She argued and put it down on the ground, sitting in the grass, she started to fish through it after opening the snap on the front. "Bulb suction, cord clamp, scissors, towels – and here you were saying you've never done this before – you certainly come prepared for anything, don't you? It's like a magician's bag!"

"I'm a GP, it's standard practice. Can we go in now?" He snarled in irritation as he bent over her, and closed his case to retrieve it again.

"So is there anything else you want to fill me in on our patient?"

"No!" He said, coolly.

She just glared at him. Finally he relented.

"She may have put out her hip."

"Great!" Sarah snapped and walked past him into the house.

Martin just grumbled something and followed the doctor to be without another word.

(Fifteen minutes later, Sarah is laying in bed beside Beverly Minafield, holding her up as best as she could against her as she tries to reassure the woman in labor that everything will be alright):

She was asking her to breathe when Martin was down by the business end of the woman, trying to assess the damage to her hip when he could see her starting to lose blood with the baby coming.

Suddenly, his stomach began to turn and he lost all color to his face. He nearly threw up right then and there before he turned his head away.

Beverly glanced down at the doctor in concern.

"I'm sorry, doctor," she apologized and then began to scream a bit as she could feel herself going into labor.

"Relax, Beverly, it's not you – we need you to help us alright?" Sarah said, calmly smoothing back the woman's sweaty brow and holding her hand.

She got up and came down next to Ms. Minafield's side a bit, not letting go of the woman's hand to see how Martin was doing.

"Why don't you let me handle this?" She said, seeing his face.

"No!" Martin gasped, getting a grip on himself. "I'm fine. Her hip is not dislocated, it's just a slight fracture of the bone."

"She's going to be in a lot of pain if the baby pushes past it. Do you have any codeine or morphine in your bag?"

"We can't dope her up in childbirth!" Martin protested as he tried to edge his hand up along the woman's hip to feel it some more under the dress she wore.

"I'm just suggesting a mild dose of it, enough to null the pain but not affect the baby," Sarah commented.

"It's too risky, we can't take that chance!" Martin responded and Sarah knew he was probably right.

"Alright, well why don't you ease the pain on the hip and I'll see about delivering this baby, OK? Do you have some forceps on you? I'd like to see the position of the baby's head."

Martin nodded and reached in his bag, he handed her the pair he had. He had to avert his eyes as finally letting go of the patient's hand, Sarah got down between Ms. Minafield's knees to reach down inside of her slightly and feel around to see how far the child was along outside of her womb.

She smiled as she sat up, her hands and arms a bit covered in blood.

"Good, the baby is coming head first and facing the right way up. As long as she doesn't have any pain in her hip, she should be fine."

Beverly looked up at her. "It's alright, it doesn't hurt that much – just – please help my baby."

"Hang in there, hon – we will," Sarah said, her face beaming with an exhausted grin.

Martin glanced up at her, admitting he was impressed by her calm professionalism when he caught sight of her blood-soaked arms and nearly felt he would pass out.

He'd never seen that much concentration of blood before, it was literally all over the bed, all over the woman's torso and all over his friend.

Sarah came across the patient, takes his face in her hand and makes him look up at her saying "Focus! Look at me! Look at me! Concentrate – OK – steady!"

His cheek now covered in blood, he comes to his senses and with her help – they deliver a happy and very healthy baby boy named Phillip.

(Moments later, an ambulance arrives to take the baby and with a full EMT crew to help Ms. Minafield to the hospital – including the food delivery man who is overjoyed to find he is a father and confessing his love to Beverly):

Sarah smiled, but then made a face as she used some towels to clean off her hands near Martin's car.

"Would have been nice if 'daddy' had been here for the birth!" She snarled.

Martin just stood there watching her quietly.

"What?" She asked, wondering if finally she had offended him.

"You did well today," he said, quietly. "Thank you."

She grinned, proudly. "You were impressive in action, too."

"Pauline told me about your wedding present to us."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "She did? That was supposed to be a surprise. Damnit, Paul!"

She then glanced up at him as he was still staring at her with his unwavering, grey eyes. "So – what do you think of the idea?"

He begrudgingly smiled at her. "A trial run wouldn't be out of the question, I suppose."

She gave up a little cheer. "Thank you. Alright, Martin – first order of business as your locum pseudo best man - let's get you married!"

(It's around 10:30 and back in Portwenn, Pauline is just trying to get her arrangements in order for the day when Joan comes up to her room to softly knock on her door):

"Pauline, Martin – it's me. Can I come in? Are you decent?"

Pauline looked over at the door and grimaced a bit. "It's just me, Joan – it's fine."

She came in to see Pauline standing there trying to choose what to wear as she was still in her nightgown from the previous evening.

"Where's Martin?" Joan asked, a look of panic on her face.

"He had to go to see a patient out in the country with Sarah."

His aunt looked blanched at her words. "He's not here?"

"No," muttered Pauline, trying to hide her apprehension and doubts.

She knew that this was like an old record playing. This was nearly what happened between him and Louisa when they were engaged – she knew that. But, she kept reassuring herself that this was different.

Joan was trying hard to do the same thing, the nervous smile she gave Pauline told her all she needed to know.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon – where – where did they go?"

"Tregenna."

"Tregenna?" She exclaimed, with an intake of breath.

Pauline started to pace a bit in front of the older woman, it was then she knew she had to take her into hand.

"Please, honey, stop – here, come sit down."

Joan led her over to the edge of the bed and sat down next to her.

"He'll be here. He loves you and I know that…"

But, Pauline interrupted her. "How can you be sure that he will – that I'm any different than that time he left Louisa at the altar? What if he does that with me?"

The elder woman took her hands between hers and stroked her face. "This isn't the same, Pauline. He'll be here. Why don't you try calling him on his cell phone?"

"He doesn't like it when I interrupt him at work."

"I think today is an exception. Give me your phone, I'll call him," Joan insisted.

Pauline got up momentarily to find her cell and handed it to her.

She dialled the number and winked, good-naturedly at the girl. But, Pauline still looked beside herself with worry.

After a few moments, Joan heard someone pick up on the other end.

"Hello – I – who's this? Oh Sarah, it's you – where are you right now?"

She could hear Martin shouting something about their directions as it was obvious they were driving in his Lexus by the sound of the motor in the background.

"They're near Sladesbridge," Joan whispered, covering the phone and talking to Pauline.

"Oh good!" Pauline sighed and felt reassured they were on their way home.

"She did? A baby boy – you did the delivery? Good for you, my dear – cutting your teeth I see. You what – really? Wedding gift? That's wonderful!"

Suddenly, Pauline grabbed the phone from Joan.

"Hi, it's me. I told him not to tell you! Yeah, I'm sorry – I know it was a secret and everything! Just let him know that I love him and I really am looking forward to becoming Mrs. Doc Martin."

There was a pause. Pauline starts to laugh and tells Joan half of the conversation.

"She says he's smiling…now he's mad that she told me he's smiling. Hee hee…"

Joan just smiled herself. "Oh Marty! He's incorrigible. Tell Sarah to tell him that if he doesn't get his derriere here to marry you, he won't get pie from me for five months!"

She told Sarah what his aunt said. Then she started laughing again.

"He's cursing us out – telling us we're henpecking him."

Now it was Joan who was laughing outloud.

"OK, alright – see you soon. Yes, I should be," Pauline continued her conversation with Sarah. "No, I haven't gotten in the dress yet."

"I'll help you with that, tell Sarah to just concentrate on getting here," Joan interceded.

She did and finally said goodbye to the pair on the road.

After she hung up, she smiled at Joan and opened her arms to her.

Joan smiled and gave Pauline a big hug.

"I'm glad Martin has you," she replied into his aunt's shoulder.

"The feeling is mutual, dear. Now – we better get ready!"

(On the road leading out of Sladesbridge):

Sarah was in a particularly good mood as she knew they were making good time down the back roads, she had a new job to look forward to and just successfully delivered a baby –

But, the ride was less enjoyable for Martin. The rains had picked up and a thick mist was settling over much of the roadway, leaving it a goopy and muddy mess – and hard to traverse.

Sitting back in the comfy seat of Martin's Lexus, Sarah glanced over at him. As usual, he was saying nothing and just staring at the road ahead of him with an icy glare.

"What?" He snarled, not glancing up at her, he could feel her eyes trained on him.

"Mind if I play some music?" She asked.

"Yes."

Groaning, she grew a bit restless and then smiled to herself.

He just clenched and unclenched his jaw to give the indication he didn't like her silence either – as if she had her own private joke, and no doubt it was him.

"What?" He barked, finally glancing up at her.

"Geez, relax alright – you're going to yell at me for grinning? My God! I was just thinking how funny it is that I'm on this side of the car and not driving."

"Yes, very amusing."

She looked up at him and watched him for a couple of minutes. "So what do you do to unwind at the end of the day – well, something that doesn't involve Pauline that is?"

She started to giggle and he didn't share her joke.

"I'm always working," he snarled.

"Even in your sleep?"

"Yes!"

"Well at least you're very agreeable – you say yes to everything," she quipped.

Now he didn't answer her, but simply stared ahead and kept his focus trained on the road.

"So what say we pull over and have sex in the backseat?" Sarah replied.

His eyes grew big as suddenly he forgot what he was doing and looked over at her in shock.

She just started giggling, obviously a joke at his expense once again.

"Is this what it's going to be like working with you?" Martin replied, angrily as he gripped his steering wheel.

"'Fraid so."

"You're like Pauline's missing link!"

"Thank you. So – how much did this silver number set you back?"

He was far less indulgent of her at the moment and refused to answer.

As if her words had been some sort of omen, that as soon as she focused on the car – it began to make weird noises, almost like a clunking sound. Suddenly, the motor began to rev very high and it was obvious something was wrong.

"Bloody transmission! I thought they'd fixed this?" He cursed and did his best to steer the car over to the soft shoulder on the road.

"We're stopping?" Sarah asked, she was really sort of unfamiliar with cars.

"I just have to put the emergency brake on for a bit, then put it into park and then drive and hopefully it will work itself out. Why can't this Godforsaken town have one decent person who has a genuine expertise for something other than fishing!"

"Why don't we just call someone to come get us?" She suggested.

"Half the town is at the wedding – the wedding I'm not at!" He growled. "Shit!"

He hit the steering wheel and looked defeated for a moment.

(In Portwenn, Pauline was adorned in her lovely wedding gown and making her way to the chapel where they were to get married, Joe had given her a lift in his police car and Joan was helping her out – she herself looking lovely in a dove grey suit):

As Joe took Pauline's hand to help her out of the cab of his vehicle, he had to stop and stare at her for a moment. She was amazing.

She had a lovely ankle-length, chiffon, cream wedding gown that was strapless and had a cinched empire waist with gold embroider just under her breast bone. She had a veil over her head of similar design and her hair was up in a high ponytail with pale yellow roses on the crown of her head, falling in luxurious loose crimson waves to her bare shoulders. As she walked, a pair of gold, roman-laced sandals framed her delicate feet.

"Pauline, you look – wow!" Joe admitted, stunned for a moment.

"Thanks PC Penhale," Pauline said, blushing a bit.

"Joe, please – "

"Joe," she said, smiling at him.

Joan walked up to her and took her arm. "Come on, let's go inside and get you ready out back – they should be here any minute now."

She nodded and followed her inside. As she walked by townspeople who were mulling around outside the chapel doors, they all gasped as they saw how incredible she looked.

She even heard one person say. "Was that really Pauline?"

She smiled, holding her head up proudly as she passed – feeling like the Queen of England.

She just hoped Martin would feel the same when he saw her – if he saw her…

'Please Martin! Hurry!' She thought.


	16. Chapter 16

**NOTE: A long section, but this is the end of the story – hope you all enjoyed it. It was so much fun writing this. Also, if anyone wants pictures that inspired Pauline's wedding gown (yes, it's an actual gown) let me know, I can send you some by mail. **

(Back at the stranded car not far outside of Sladesbridge):

Martin looked angry with himself, no doubt feeling as if he'd failed Pauline on the most important day of their lives.

To top it off the rain had picked up and was running torrents down the windshield.

Meanwhile, Sarah was trying valiantly to get a signal on her cell.

"Sarah, put it away – you'll never get anything out here!" Martin groaned, looking stoically out the window with a blank stare.

She clicked it closed and glanced over at him.

"Want to try the car again?"

"It's too soon – it will just stall," he hissed.

"My God, we've been stuck out here now for a good twenty minutes and I have yet to see a car," she lamented.

"Doesn't surprise me," he replied.

They knew the wedding ceremony had been scheduled for noon and it already was well past 11:00.

Sarah was frantically trying to devise a scheme to get them home, but Martin looked as if he was already defeated.

"I knew this wasn't meant to be!" He muttered.

"Don't say that, we have time still – we'll get there."

"We have no phone, and at the moment – no car – what would you suggest? A little stroll across the moors in the pouring rain?"

"Come on, give me some credit – I'll think of something!"

"Don't bother!"

Sarah sighed and sat back in her seat. There was a tense silence between them, but finally she spoke up.

"Can I ask you something?"

"If I say no you'll still ask, won't you?" He snapped.

She just rolled her eyes. "Alright, I won't."

His only response was just to glare at her. She took that as a dare, and so she spoke.

"I was just going to ask about your parent's marriage."

"Ah yes – the hypothetical question? Let's not be personal or anything – just cut straight to the chase! That's why I can't marry Pauline, right? Or Louisa? Or Edith?" He said, his mood particularly prickly.

"Edith?" Sarah asked, incredulously. "Who the hell is Edith? There was another one?"

Now he looked furious, and turned his face from her, refusing to answer.

Angered by his stubbornness, she opened the door to the car and a gush of the cold air seemed to be sucked inside. "You know what – I'm going to go look at the engine! Forget it!"

"Sarah! Close the door, don't be ridiculous!"

She sat back down and with a quiet, elegant little swoop, she shut the Lexus' door.

He groaned and then started to talk. "My parents didn't really have a marriage – at least – none worth speaking about. Most times the only thing they talked about was what a mistake it was having me…"

He seemed to be talking to himself more, but Sarah absorbed it all. His words seemed to cut him very deeply and he suddenly resented saying anything about it at all.

"Martin, that's why you haven't married before this – and if you had, you wouldn't have been happy. You keep thinking you're going to turn out like your parents. But, you're not. I think you blame yourself a bit for what happened to them."

"Oh you're always so full of pithy advice, aren't you? You have the answer for everything!" He snarled, glaring at her accusatory. "I'm stuck here, out in the middle of nowhere, but it doesn't mean I have to listen to your rubbish!"

"No, you don't…" she said, and sank back in her seat to stare blankly out at the muddy road that was starting to look more like a lake in front of the car.

Martin sighed elaborately and looked over at her, instantly he regretted his words but refused to go back on them.

"Why do you do that?" She finally asked him, quietly.

"Do what?" He snarled.

"Fight with people all the time?" she replied.

"I don't know."

"Don't you get tired of it? I know I would."

"Well, I'm not you," he said, glancing away in resentment.

"No, you're not. Why don't you just stop for awhile – give it up, pretend you can stand me."

He looked up at her with a curious look on his face. "That sounded self-deprecating."

"Maybe it was," she admitted. "I don't always like myself."

"Why?"

"I think I'm the other way – I try too hard to have people like me, and instead, I can tell I annoy them. I don't know…"

He was quiet when he answered. "You don't annoy me."

She laughed at his response. "It sounded like I did."

"I'm sorry."

She smiled at him. He reached over and softly touched the back of her hand. Looking over she squeezed it in return.

"You're a good man, you know that – you have to believe that people mean what they say sometimes. I just did."

He smiled in return. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. We are going to get you to that church on time, I promise – you're marrying someone today – even if it's me!"

"There's a scary thought!"

She smacked his arm, lightly.

"Well, given that I have experience as a surgeon – I think it's possible we could wire this car's engine and get it running again – care to give me a hand, doctor?" He asked of her.

She smiled at him. "I would love to!"

(Back in Portwenn, it was a different story. Pauline was pacing at the back of the chapel, lamenting about things while Joan was doing her level best to calm her nerves but failing. Joe, meanwhile, was trying to keep peace and order amongst the crowds of villagers starting to rumble restlessly out front):

Time was ticking away and Pauline was staring up forlornly at the clock in the vestibule, hoping that it wasn't right.

"He's not coming, is he?" Pauline replied, wandering back and forth.

Suddenly, Joe peeked into the room.

"Just thought I'd let you know, I think I saw Eli and Marilynn out back fighting, I tried to take names from witnesses, but they had dispersed by the time I did."

Joan rolled her eyes. "Joe, they are both 11!"

"Still, they start early these days. How are things back here?"

"Fine, just go keep an eye on things up front, please. Where is Bert?"

"Last I saw he was trying to put a little ring thing on a cushion and tie it around Buddy's neck."

Pauline smiled at the notion, but then her face turned to worry again.

She could hear people out front talking as the door was still half open with PC Penhale standing in the entrance way.

"I bet this is just like the last time," some woman said.

"Well, she is going to marry the doc, isn't she? I mean what was she thinking of in the first place…this shouldn't have come as a shocker!"

Pauline's heart dropped.

Finally, Joan could take no more – pushing Joe out the door she shut it behind him.

She put her arm around the young girl and led her away. "You never mind that, let's just concentrate on finishing up your makeup and hair, shall we?"

But, as the older woman walked away – she glanced nervously up at the door herself.

Where was her nephew? Damn him!

(In Sladesbridge, things had finally looked up for Martin and Sarah – they were once more on the road again. Though the road was still very treacherous and the roads were slick to the point that Sarah had to beg Martin to slow down for worry that they'd end up in a ditch somewhere in a mangled heap):

Finally at around 4:30 PM they arrived in Portwenn. Martin's heart was breaking as he was sure that the wedding was over before it had begun.

He was going to head off to the church immediately but Sarah stopped him near the chapel to put a sprig of some wild flowers in his boutineer.

"There, much better."

"The church is empty by now," he groaned.

She patted his stomach a bit. "Don't give up on her, Martin."

He stood there dejected on the lawn, looking at the dark, gray sky above and cursing it. There wasn't a soul around and the church was dark inside.

"We're too late!"

But, Sarah wasn't so easily deterred. As Martin turned to face the road and contemplate returning home, she went over to the chapel doors and opened them to peer inside.

Her expression softly grew into a warm smile as she did.

"Martin," she whispered.

He was ignoring her, just standing there with his back to her, looking over his car.

She turned to him and walked up behind him, then tugged on the bottom of his coat.

"What?" He snarled.

She took his hand and at first he shrugged her off. Then she got insistent and took it again, this time pulling him along a bit. Finally, he followed her as she led him into the open doorway of the church.

There to his astonishment – were Joan, Bert and Joe in the pews chatting quietly amongst themselves, they suddenly noticed Martin and Sarah's arrival and looked up with stunned expressions. They were the only folks left in the church – except for one other person…

Joan smiled warmly at her nephew and pointed to the front pew of the church near the altar

It was then he saw this glowing vision sitting with her back facing him, the light netting of her veil nearly like a halo over her head.

"Pauline?" He whispered, much as Sarah had. There was slight trepidation in his voice. Tears rose to his eyes immediately – she'd waited for him, all this time – despite the doubts she probably had – she'd waited.

It was now he was certain he wanted her to be his wife. He just hoped vainly that she still wished the same thing.

Gradually, she stood up and faced him.

As she did, there was a sharp intake of breath from Martin as he saw her –

He was speechless as she stood before him in her long, trailing chiffon gown with the roses high upon her head like a crown and her strawberry blonde hair falling in loose waves to her soft shoulders. She looked like an angel.

Her eyes were glistening as well as she gently smiled. She dropped a little bouquet she was cradling of carnations on the pew and lifting the train of her gown, she ran down the aisle to suddenly throw her arms around his waist.

Closing his eyes in relief, he grasped her tightly and laid his head atop hers as he rocked her softly in his embrace.

"I was so worried somethin' happened to you," he heard her whisper into his chest.

"You're still here," he replied, still in disbelief.

"I would have waited all night."

He cried a bit against her and then whispered. "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

"I think we should get married, don't you?" He replied.

"That's what we're here for."

She just giggled and they broke away for a moment to look at one another, he stroked her tears away from her wet cheek and then was about to lean over to kiss her when he heard someone coughing in interruption behind them.

"I think you should save that for after the vows, don't you?" Joe said at Pauline's shoulder.

Martin grimaced a bit and then nodded reluctantly. Pauline just giggled.

"Now, seeing as you have no minister here – I thought I could perhaps add my duty as a public servant to the proceedings. That is if it's alright with you, doc?"

Pauline glanced up at Martin, unsure of his response.

It was a surprise to her as well as PC Penhale when Martin let go of Pauline long enough to extend his hand to shake the police officer's.

"The dynamic duo, Joe?"

Joe smiled, and nearly cried as he shook it happily. "Yeah, always!"

Bert came up next as Joe ran up to the front to get ready.

"I will be giving Pauline away, if you don't mind – you have to let her go, but only for a moment, my boy. I'll bring her right back to you – I promise."

As Martin reluctantly set Pauline free at last to Bert's care, he grabbed Bert's arm as they were about to walk away.

"I – I never did tell you thank you, Bert."

The older man looked slightly confused.

"Well, you're welcome, but it's nothing – I don't mind standing in as Paul's dad, so pretty and all…don't you agree?"

Martin smiled at her, and once more touched her face. "Yes."

She blushed a bit.

"Actually, what I meant though – thank you for convincing me to stay in Portwenn all those years ago when I first came here and was ready to leave after the first week."

Bert giggled a bit. "It's no problem, doc."

"No, it is – I appreciate it. And…"

Joan came up to stand next to Bert's side and look proudly at her husband to be.

"I want to give you my blessing."

Joan just smiled at him and then reached up to hug her nephew.

"Thank you, Marty!"

He held his aunt close to him and whispered in her graying hair. "And – I appreciate you for cleaning my cuts and bruises, those you could see and those you couldn't. I love you, Auntie Joan."

"You're turning into a right old sap, doc!" Bert said, tickled at this new turn in Martin's personality.

He looked ready to say something to him in rebuttal of his usual color, but stopped himself as he just smiled instead – though it was tinged with a bit of a snarl.

"Don't spoil it, Bert!" Snapped Joan, who pinched his arm.

(After a few moments of preparation, everyone got in their places and the actual ceremony had begun. Sarah found a nice piece of music on her iPod Touch in her purse and hooked it up to the speaker system in that back part of the church so it was heard through the chapel. It was Sarah McLachlan's "Love Comes"):

The words were very lovely:

Love come light up the shadows

Let the beauty of you enter in

For I have hungered for a tender touch

A long and lonely time

I've seen much more than I want to

So much anger so much pain

A line is drawn and lives are torn apart

The wounds so hard to heal

Love has taken me in

Lifted my load

And in this empty place a wonder grows

A dream of some kind of peace

I could hold up as true

I never knew anything about love before you

You call and I come running

I can sense the flood before it breaks

And I'd do anything to dry your tears

To let you know you're safe

Love has taken me in

Lifted my load

And in this empty space a wonder grows

A dream of some kind of peace

I could hold up as true

I never knew anything about love before you

Love come light up the shadows

Let me drink the beauty of you in

For I have hungered for a tender touch

A long and lonely time

Martin stood up next to Joe at the front of the chapel, waiting expectantly for the doors at the back of the church to open. Joan sat up front watching as well and soon Bert walked through them and on his arm was the radiant Pauline, who smiled warmly at Martin up front.

He could feel butterflies in his stomach as he knew that at last, he's found the woman he was to marry.

As she joined him up front, he reached over and took both of her hands in his and stared into her eyes, his expression tender.

But, they noticed Joe wasn't saying anything.

That's when they heard Sarah's voice come over the microphone for the choir in the back of the church.

"Hon, you have to say something," she called out.

Joe looked up and waved at her. She just shook her head and grinned at him through the window.

"I'm coming down. Hold on."

Eventually, she came up front to join him on the altar, standing near the couple. She tried to whisper into his ear, but he kept shaking his head saying 'It doesn't go like that!'

"I'm sorry, doc – I've never done this before," the constable apologized.

"That's alright, Joe – we can read our own vows," Pauline offered, and then she looked up at Martin.

He seemed thunderstruck, stumbling to reply to her comment.

"You didn't write anything, did you?" She asked, sounding a bit prickly. "Martin, we talked about this."

"I didn't think you were serious!"

Joan comes up to the altar and speaks to the couple. "Why don't you simply say what's in your heart, Martin? After all, you already have and everyone here right now is family and friends, you can trust us. Just look at her and pretend it's just the two of you alone standing across from one another. Try it."

He seemed a bit uneasy, and then straightened himself up.

Bert was going to say something, but she immediately shushed him.

Martin held on a little tighter to Pauline's hands and just tried to let the first things to come to his mind come from his lips for once.

"I couldn't believe it when after all I put you through today, that you were still here when I came back. I still can't. And, I don't mind that we spend so much time with one another. When you're not a part of it, I – I feel like I'm missing something. You drive me crazy sometimes, yes, and you always will. But, I wouldn't want to know what my life would be like without you. That's why I want to do this today. That's why I'm certain I want you for my wife, because I never want to know."

Pauline started to cry a bit, his honesty touched her heart and so she began to speak. "I have to admit, when I started workin' for you – I thought you were a nasty piece of work, but I tolerated it. Then, as I did – I started seeing the little things you did for patients, patients who you gave a damn about. I was impressed. It was like there was this whole other person inside of you. Bert did make that bet, but thank God he did – because I got to know the real you. And, how gentle you can be, how kind, how passionate. I feel like the luckiest girl in town right now that I'm standing up here with you. And, I would have waited for you as long as it took tonight, I wasn't mad at you – all I was thinking about was how grateful I was to see your handsome face when you walked in that door tonight and you were OK. I love you, doc – I love you, Martin."

Joe started to blubber next to them. Martin rolled his eyes a bit in irritation, but he patted the constable's arm in sympathy. Pauline just started to giggle again.

"Oh sorry, sorry…I guess I should do the next part?"

Sarah nodded at him.

"With the power invested in me by the fine town of Portwenn, I pronounce you husband and wife – you may kiss the bride!"

Martin leaned over, his hand lifting Pauline's chin as he gently kissed her lips and then they hugged one another in happiness.

"I think we're forgettin' something, doc!" Bert called out.

The doctor glanced up at him, his arms still around his lovely wife as they broke away for a moment.

Bert let out a loud whistle and Buddy, the little Jack Russell, came darting up the aisle with a tiny, lacy pillow strapped to his back.

"Oh God!" Martin lamented.

"Oh that's so cute!" Pauline chirped.

The dog ran up to the couple and sat obediently before them, wagging his tail happily.

Bert reached down and plucked the rings from the pillow and handed them to Martin. "You may do the honors!"

Martin smiled at Pauline as his hand shook a little bit. She reached over and steadied it for him as he slipped her wedding band on her finger and she then did the same with his.

It was official – they were married.

Joan began to cry and Bert hugged her close. He gave a cheer as Joe kissed Sarah, who hugged him in response.

"Why don't we go to Martin's cottage for some tea and some of the cake I made for the wedding – I think there is still some left!" Joan announced.

Everyone agreed it sounded like a wonderful idea.

(Back at the cottage clinic of Martin Ellingham):

Joan sat next to Bert, sipping her tea, feeling totally happy to be in cozy company and knowing her nephew finally was married off – and that now she had a new niece.

Joe was fixing more tea for the guests and Sarah stood beside him to help.

Meanwhile, Pauline was leaning against Martin who sat beside her, his arm around her waist.

"So, have you given any thought to where you'll be living now?"

"How do you mean?" Martin replied, sipping his tea as Pauline started to play with his hair. He batted her away in mild nuisance, she just grinned at him.

"Well, you're going to need more room."

He still looked confused. "I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Martin, give Pauline your hand, please."

He gave her a curious look. "Why?"

"Just do it!" She insisted.

Groaning, he looked up and handed Pauline his hand. She smiled and took it, then gently placed it over her stomach.

He still didn't seem to understand.

So Joan replied. "It's too early to feel anything moving, but give it a few more months."

Suddenly, Martin's eyes grew big as he looked up at Pauline in shock.

"You're pregnant?"

She nodded and leaned over to kiss his forehead. He just held her close and could feel his heart pounding – so much so fast, it was almost too much.

"When? I mean – how?" He asked, still dumbfounded at the news.

Pauline just smiled. "Well, you know the how – you were there. And, I remember when – that afternoon we shared. It was meant to be a surprise."

Martin's eyes grew large at the announcement.

He glanced over at Joan. "You knew about this?"

"Yes, of course!"

Sarah glanced over and grinned. "I did too, actually."

"Ah yes," Martin snarled. "The ever present woman's only club! How about you?"

He looked over at Bert.

"Hey, you can call me a lot of things – but do I look like a woman to you?"

Pauline started to laugh.

"No, Bert – and don't ever suggest that again!" Joan admonished, touching his arm. "I was talking with him, Martin and we'd like to give you my farm house for you, Pauline and the baby."

"You're giving up your farm?" Martin asked, astonished.

Pauline urged him to move over a bit so she could properly sit down in his lap and he complied.

"I'm getting up there in years, Marty and besides this way I could help Bert at his restaurant. We can try to grow some organic vegetables out back so that I can still have a little of my regular puttering around."

Bert kissed his hand. "It will be bliss, my lover having you there to help out. So what do you say, doc? Are you interested? It's prime property."

"And, very low ceilinged!" He complained.

"Is that why you don't visit very often?"

"Yes," he snarled. "I was beginning to feel like I was developing arthritis in my neck!"

"You could do work on renovations to make it more bearable."

He sort of gave it half a thought until Bert added.

"Or cut a few inches off your legs so you can fit in there!"

He glared angrily at Mr. Large, Bert just hid a chuckle.

"You'll have to take on the care of the livestock and crops as well!" Joan added.

Now Martin blanched at the idea. "The animals?"

"Yes, Martin – my animals. Feed them every day, clean up after them and raise them – that sort of thing. Also, since Buddy might be more than I can handle around the restaurant, I was wondering if you'd consider adopting him?"

"Ah, yes, why don't we just have a full menagerie to add to the family!" He groaned.

But, Pauline was beside herself with excitement. "Oh wow, I think it's great. Can't you just see us now – we'll be like two real farmers, staking out our own little piece of land, growing our own food and…"

"Pauline!" He snapped.

"Well?" Joan asked, glaring at her nephew.

"I'll think about it…" he said, his resolve not particularly high at the moment given everything that had happened to him that day.

"Yeah!" Pauline cheered and leaned over to kiss him.

Sarah just smiled and pinched Joe's backside next to her.

"I guess we know who's next down the aisle!" Joan commented, looking up at them.

Joe was shocked as he turned. "What? Us?"

"Yes, you're both looking rather cozy over there."

Sarah took his hand and nudged his hip.

"Well, I – um – that is to say – I," Joe stuttered, not sure how to respond.

"Relax, honey, we've only known each other for awhile. Let's just get to know one another for starters, eh?" Sarah replied, kissing his cheek.

He sighed in relief.

"Eh? Eh?" Bert laughed. "The Canuck is comin' out in you, darlin'!"

Everyone just laughed.

As they were calling it a night, Martin stopped Sarah.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

All he did in reply was leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thank you for today, Dr. Marshall."

"Anytime, Dr. Ellingham."

(The next morning, Pauline and Martin were trying to resolve how they would announce their wedding to folks in town. Martin was feeling less than charitable given that everyone had up and left before the actual ceremony took place):

"We have to tell folks, Martin. Either that or let Bert just blurt it out," Pauline quipped as she stretched a bit on the cottage landing, she rubbed her belly for a moment.

Martin glanced over at her and stroked it too. He seemed to want to say something, but didn't.

"What?" She asked, turning to look up at him.

"Nothing," he replied, softly taking his wife into his arms. "I'm just happy."

She smiled at him as he leaned over to kiss her neck gently.

That's when their problem was solved for them as they could hear the teenage girl pack walking past them.

"Ohhh…look at that, even at this early in the morning – way to go, doc! What's he like, huh Pauline?" One girl, replied, giggling.

"Bet she's got no complaints…" another one replied. "Except that the weddin' didn't happen, of course."

Pauline turned to face them. "Actually, it did."

She held out her ring for them to see.

The girls ran over in excitement as they noticed the beautiful wedding band glimmering in the sunshine.

"For real? You got married after all? No way!" One gasped.

"Why wasn't I there? When did this happen?" Another complained.

"Last night, it was beautiful. Wasn't it, doc?" Pauline said, looking proudly at her hubby.

"Yes," he responded, growling a bit but betraying a smile on his face.

The response from the girls were one they weren't expecting – all six of them clamored up the stone steps towards the couple and showered them with hugs of congratulations – even the bewildered and insulted doctor who ended up pushing them away.

Suffice to say, after the event – word traveled fast around town and soon – everyone knew the news.

(A month and a half after returning from their honeymoon to the Cotswolds, life for Pauline and Martin started to gradually change):

Sarah had become certified and was now a full physician and starting to see patients in the clinic and for housecalls in the community on alternate days from Martin. Most people grew to love Dr. Marshall, she was always a great listener, very good at diagnosing problems and a lot more charitable with her kind word and helpful advice. And, yet there were still people who preferred to see Dr. Ellingham instead as their GP.

"You see that, Martin. You may be tough with your advice, but people appreciate a good doctor – which you are," Sarah told her one day.

Pauline was getting a break too with the new routine, Poppy was hired on part-time at the clinic and worked in conjunction with her to work for both Martin and Sarah. All in all – it ended up to be like a well-oiled machine. And, finally Martin found that the stress he often felt of being in high demand as a general practitioner was beginning to fade.

Joe became a more permanent fixture around the clinic as well, often visiting to see Sarah and pick her up after work.

One day as she was finishing up her shift and Martin was looking over her files to see who was coming in next, Joe was ambling around trying to find something to do while waiting for her.

"So what does the FRCS stand for in your name, doc?"

"Fellowship of the Royal College of Surgeons," he answered, drily – barely taking note of him.

"Of course, I've seen other definitions…" Sarah replied, grinning a bit. She pulled out her laptop and typed in a few words and did a search. "Like here we go – Front Range Christian School!"

Martin glared up angrily at her as she started giggling and soon Joe looked over her shoulder and tried another one.

"Flight Recorder Configuration Standard!"

Sarah kept going with the joke, much to Martin's chagrin.

"Field Replaceable Connector Shell!"

They both broke down and started giggling amongst themselves.

Martin held the door open for them. "Yes, that will suffice. Don't you both have somewhere you need to be?"

They agreed and got up to go, but Sarah stopped at the door to salute him.

Martin grumbled something under his breath and shut the door.

(Down the road, Sarah asked Joe to stop outside the pharmacy as she needed to pick up a prescription for one of her new patients who was invalid across town):

As she walked in to the clinic, a middle-aged woman with light blonde hair turned to face her. She greeted her pleasantly.

"Hi there, I was wondering if I can leave this prescription with you. I am new. I just started recently, so I don't know the protocol."

The woman took the piece of paper from her, as soon as she saw it, her expression dropped.

"Ah yes, you work with the doctor, do you? He and his 'wife'?"

"Yeah, that's right. I'm Dr. Marshall. Nice to meet you."

She held out her hand to the woman, but she did not return it.

"And how long are you planning on staying in our little town? Is it just a – temporary thing?"

Sarah was getting a bad vibe from this woman, and she wasn't sure why.

"I'm hoping it's a permanent thing actually. What's your name?"

"I'm Mrs. Tishell. I have known our good doctor for a number more years than – he is a very special man…"

Then, the reason for her manner became apparent to Sarah.

"So how long have you had a thing for the doctor, Mrs. Tishell?"

Mrs. Tishell looks at her in surprise.

Then Sarah adds, pulling down on the front of her blouse. "And, if I showed a bit of some sex appeal, do I get the same discount?"

Mrs. Tishell is insulted until she sees Sarah smiling and then cracking a laugh. She gives her a playful shove and starts laughing herself. Sarah holds her hand out to her in introduction.

"Dr. Marshall, nice to meet you."

She tisked at the young woman and shook it finally.

"Likewise."

"I promise you, Mrs. Tishell – I have no designs on the good doctor. I'm rather smitten already with my chauffeur awaiting me outside."

Mrs. Tishell peered out the window.

"Oh my – PC Joe Penhall?" She asked in relief. "You don't say. It's not my place – but you do know of his – conditions?"

"You mean the narcolepsy and the agrophobia? Yes. I found out the first night we dated. He refused to come outside when I was waiting for him in the police van. Then, I had to go get him and when I was asking him where we were to go to eat, he sort of conked out. I asked him where he went to and he didn't remember. It's OK – I'll make sure he takes his meds, I'm proud of him, he's a brave guy doing all he does while suffering from his ailments."

Mrs. Tishell smiled. "Sounds like love."

Sarah looked out the window and smiled at Joe. He just grinned back.

"Yeah, I think so too," she admitted.

(Four years pass, and finally Pauline and Martin are proud parents of a daughter, Lily):

Lily was named by her father when Pauline was giving birth in the hospital and she asked him to think of something they should call her. He immediately thought of her perfume he'd always been fond of and it seemed natural to name her after that.

She was the spitting image of Pauline with curly, strawberry blonde hair and freckles – but her eyes were her father's, sage gray full of illustrious lights. She was a lively girl, always helping her father around the clinic, bringing him files when he worked and chatting with patients while sitting at her mom's side.

The little girl also took a shine to little Buddy and despite Martin's objection – he begrudgingly did the same.

Particularly after one incident at Haven Farm, where they now lived as a family. The neighbors were now helping out taking care of the livestock, but one day Lily decided she was going to go check out the chickens to help her parents.

What she didn't bargain on was how temperamental the animals were. As she walked close to the coop, they started to fly around and bare their feet at the frightened little girl.

Martin heard the commotion and the sound of barking. Running outside, his only concern was to protect his daughter – when he saw Buddy doing it instead.

Standing between Lily and the frantic chickens, he was barking and baring down on them until they backed off and left her alone.

Impressed, he started to have a special place in his heart for the tiny dog from that point on.

Each day, when he came into the clinic to work, he would stop after letting in his next patient to look for something he was missing. Whistling through his teeth, Buddy would run in at his heels.

"Go sit down on your cushion! Go on! Sit!" Martin said, before settling down with the patient.

Buddy ran over to the corner of the room near the window and sat obediently near the doctor, wagging his tail and looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

"Good boy!" Martin said and turned to the patient. "Now, how may I help you?"

Pauline even caught a rare sight one morning while lying asleep on her side next to Martin. That of her husband sitting there reading his newspaper as Buddy lay beside him, rolling around happily as Martin absently reached over to scritch the little dog's tummy as if by instinct. She smiled to herself and went back to sleep.

Lily would often answer phones too for people calling for basic things and she'd learned from her mom to patch calls through. It was always the highlight of Martin's day to hear the little, lilting voice on the other end asking him to take a call. She was becoming her mom more and more every day.

On the first anniversary of their marriage – Pauline surprised Martin not once but twice.

Taking him out to the fenced field near their farm she asked him to look to see his gift. There was a majestic, white stallion running free. She told him it was his. It had been a gift from a neighbor for helping out recently when he was sick. Martin was speechless. But, not as much as when Pauline admitted she was pregnant again – this time it would be a boy that would go on to be named Alexander. The horse was to be named Regency. Martin eventually learned to ride the creature and develop a special relationship with it. He, in turn, taught his family to ride as well. Sometimes taking them down to the shoreline to run by the water's edge.

As to be expected, Joe and Sarah did marry and she was then referred to as Dr. Penhale. They also became godparents to Lily and Alexander.

Bert and Joan married and together ran the restaurant successfully, even turning the spare room at the Large Restaurant into a bed and breakfast.

(One afternoon, Martin was getting some files near his wife in the clinic):

The door opened to admit Joe who comes in with four other people – apparently on duty and these folks had been involved in some type of accident. Bert, who is sitting in the window seat to have his back examined next, looks up in curiosity.

Tommy from the taxi cab company was looking rather blanched, but unharmed – but there was a woman with an injury to her head, a man with bleeding from his gums and a woman who was shielding a wound with a towel around her right hand.

Martin was about to ask what happened when Sarah urges Pauline to come over, so she can whisper something into her ear.

Pauline cracked up immediately and couldn't stop laughing. Martin looked irritated by her behavior, thinking it unprofessional.

Finally, Pauline urges Martin over so she can tell him what happened.

"Sarah says that she decided to do something sexy this morning before Joe went off to work, as he was saying good bye to her, she flashed her breasts at him. She said she's not sure why but it thought like something daring to spice up their relationship. She said she was close to the car, so she didn't think anyone would see…but Tommy

did see and lost control of his cab, running over the curb and into the corner of the dental office in town."

Martin couldn't help it, Pauline's snicker as she told the story got to him and he found himself breaking into a laugh before he restrained himself.

Bert looked up, surprised to see the doc laughing.

Pauline continued on – as there was still more to tell.

"Inside the office, Dr. Klesick, a dental technician, was cleaning Mr. Corcoran's teeth. The crash of the cab against the building making her jump, tearing Corcoran's gums with a cleaning pick. In shock, he bit down, injuring two fingers from Dr. Klesick's hand. Ms. Moeller's wound was caused by a falling piece of the medical building."

Now Martin totally lost it and he started cackling away with Pauline who laughed with him.

As Joe glared at him in embarrassment and Sarah just seemed to blush a bright red, which nearly caused Martin to erupt in laughter again, he fought his urge to as he brought the patients into the office.

"Um…please, come inside."

He bit his lip, as tears formed and tried to hide his chuckle as he followed the party into his office.

Bert looked up at Pauline and nearly applauded.

"Well done, girl, you nearly won that wager, but you're too late, I'm afraid."

Pauline smiled over at him. "I still won."

"How's that?"

"I have my husband and my children, that's all I wanted," she said, grinning at his door.

THE END


End file.
